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« Blah, blah, Blah | Main | A Post In Which My Head Explodes »

September 28, 2008

Comments

cookie

What kind of sammich did he order?

ricky

You know, Cookie, I could lie to you and just say anything, since the only person who could prove me wrong is no longer with us.

But I have too much respect for Paul, and so I'm not going to do that.

After all this time, I can't remember.

But I bet he did. I bet he was thinking about that sandwich right at the end. And I bet it made his passing that much easier.

That's what kind of sandwich he ordered, Cookie. That's what kind of sandwich I made him.

The kind you never forget.

Unless you made it.

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