when Da walked in on my culinary efforts. We got into a discussion about my training (or lack thereof) and the unfortunate event that happened a few weeks back.
I assured Da (choose one) that
1 - I did not do that
2 - That Fluffy Cat was fully responsible,
3 - That it could have been burglars, trying to cover their pizza theft crime.
4 - Aren't firemen swell guys! and Isn't that little lizard a really nice Insurance guy?
You guys know Da is not the most trusting guy and, at some point during the discussion, he asked me:
What do you think you are? A Master Chef?
Well, I thought that was a peachy idea, so I got on the interwebs (Da's account) and found a guy in the Ukraine, who runs an interwebs cooking school. After two hours instruction and a paypal (Thanks Mumzie) transfer of $12.37, I is now a Master Chef de Jour. I'll share m diploma when it comes through the mail in a week or two.
Step aside Emerald and Boy-are-D, a new frying pan just rode into town.
More later.
