So we're out last night at one of those authentic Japanese restaurants (you know...were the chef is Vietnamese)...and they cook and perform at your table.
Dicing and slicing and flames and flippin' and serving and yin-yang-yowing and stuff.
So the Vietnamese chef (his name was Louie) grills up some zuccinni and flips it up in the air for the Blonde to catch in her mouth.
Well, the Blonde ain't no good at it and she looks a bit like a retarded seal at the Special Seal Olympics and the piece of zuccinni falls to the floor.
And then Louie flicks a piece high in the air for me to catch with my mouth. It was like in slow motion...turning and twisting towards me...the crowd was roaring, anticipation was in the air (along with the grilled squash)..and like Willie Mays in the '54 World Series I was all about the CATCH.
And I caught it in my mouth, we won the World Series, and the crowd roared.
Well, maybe not roared. In fact, by the time the zuke hit my mouth the Blonde and the Hoag were already discussing something else.
Point of the story?
Vietnamese are the best Japanese. And I can catch squash in my mouth like a non-retarded seal.
If seals ate squash.