The Story of Can and Unable

Great weekend w/ the bro! First, we went out to this Chinese place. And not one of those Chinese places where you walk in and they're behind the counter like "Hello, welcome to our establishment, follow me and I will seat you over here right away." No. One of those places where the lighting is that of a coal mine and the old woman who you assume is behind the counter, though you can’t quite see her over the hostess stand, talks to you at a volume leading you to believe that t...here is an orchestra of jackhammers going off out back that only she is hearing. And you're only able to comprehend about 10% of what she's saying, so essentially as you follow this woman into the darkness, you're doing one giant, hunger-driven verbal Trust Fall hoping that you don't end up blindfolded and thrown onto a ship headed toward some distant land to do several decades of hard labor. Anyway, so they hand us this soup. I have no idea what was in it (nor do I want to know) all I know is that either the building was slanted or the contents of the bowl were still alive, because I saw it move like 5 times. Regardless, my ignorance was rewarded because it was the best soup I've ever had! (sorry mom) So I get my main course along with some chopsticks. Now, in school I needed to use one of those pencil grips until like the 8th grade so I politely asked for some silverware. My brother pointed to the green paste that was toward the side of my plate and with trusting, loving eyes said “Try that.” People, I am a man. I know this because I shout at the TV during football games and because whenever I hear someone burp my immediate reaction is to grade it on a scale of 1 to 10. However, one of the XY chromosomes characteristics I lack is the desire to eat food that has been cooked up by lunch ladies Bonnie Parker, Cleopatra and Cruella de Vil in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m sorry, but I sweat after a workout or a run, but I don’t like being all hunched over, shaky and sweating while I’m eating. Heck, I can’t even handle mild flavored Doritos. My brother had apparently been struggling with jealousy ever since I stole the attention away when they brought me home from the hospital. He laid low for 22 years and finally his plot of vengeance reached its Cain and Abel culmination as the substance that made its way through my esophagus was wasabi, which is an acronym derived from the fact that it Will Aggressively Scorch At Both Intestines. Anyway, after I was resuscitated we went and saw Guardians of the Galaxy, all and all a great day