12.19.01 :: 3:44 pm

Manny, my favorite chef, got fired a couple of nights ago.

You know, this is upsetting to me.

Because he always brought pot and smoked us out during breaks. And he talked a lot of shit and made me laugh.

Here's to you, Manny.

So me and My Boy went to the holiday party hosted by my restaurant job. And the owner was there and gave me $20 in a Christmas card. And the head chef toasted to all of us.

And the booze and food was free all night.

And later, one of the bartenders, Danielle, got on top of the bar and started pouring Orange Stoli down all of our throats.

Very trashy. But fun.

I think I meant it when I said I'd rather work at Cafe Brand full time than in this corporate formica hell.

Even if it means war wounds like burn scars and food spills and weird smells on your clothes.


Can I just say I can't wait to go home tonight? Just because. I've got my Stoosh-dog and My Boy in one place, permanently. My two favorite things.

And I've got them in a badass bigass apartment to boot.

You just can't bring yourself to complain when you think big-picture style like that.


Nothing can ruin this. Even though it's been tried. I will always sit in Benny Tudino's with you over chicken parm and Snapple, you ... you you.

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