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Re: Tithing Recipes
Ahh, ladies, all these recipes remind me of how, just a few years ago, Rosa came to me and told me her brother Pablo wanted to open a little cooking business on my property. It seems he'd figured out an efficient way to produce a traditional family cold medicine, and was afraid that if his recipe got out, the Big Pharmaceutical companies would steal it!
Being the thoughtful and generous fellow I am, I agreed to rent him a secluded 2,000 square foot cabin on my property, in exchange for the paltry sum of $15000 a month, plus yard and cleaning laborers to help out my staff. He happily agreed, with the stipulation that I would use my considerable local influence to ensure that the police did not allow anyone to invade his privacy.
A few weeks later, trucks began arriving every few days, delivering his supplies. Cases of Sudafed, lye, iodine, denatured alcohol, and other items. Once I saw the exhaust fans blowing smoke out the vents, I knew he was in business!
About this time, my regular staff grew upset and they all quit. I assumed it was because I'd arranged for additional labor to help them, and maybe they thought I was going to cut their pay. Rosa said they were afraid of Pablo and his methods, or something.
Well, I didn't want him attracting undue attention from his competitors or driving off new staff members, so I generously added filtration devices and improved ventilation hoods for his cooking area.
Shortly, I saw the vehicles carrying his cold medicine off to the distributor -- armored Hummers. Goodness, it almost made me wish I got colds now and then, if the stuff was that precious a cargo!
Finally, he brought two laborers by; a young woman to clean house, and a young man, to do the yard work. "Come now," I asked, "Do you really think TWO people can handle my estate? I had a staff of twenty!"
Pablo assured me that they could manage. You see, they'd had his medicine and been miraculously healed of pneumonia, and were eager to show their gratitude.
Imagine my surprise when I got up the next morning! They'd both worked all night long, and were still at it. I nearly tripped over the young lady, who was on hands and knees, scrubbing the marble tile in the foyer with a toothbrush. "Eet must be peerfect!" she exclaimed. "PEERFECT!" And goodness, was it shiny! Strangely, so were the ceilings. I do believe she'd waxed them.
The young man? Why, he was cutting the lawn one blade at a time with nail clippers, and putting each clipped blade in a collection bin as he went! "Must use SHARP cleepers," he said. "Otherwise, grass BURRRN from sun! Cleep, cleeep, cleeeep!"
He had already trimmed all the hedges into topiaries depicting scenes from the Bible -- I saw Onan and his wife, Lot with his two daughters, Jonathan and David expressing their brother-like love, Samson with Delilah, and what I believed to be Jacob wrestling God -- vacuumed the driveway, and installed a raked-stone Zen garden. "I got many stones from vacuuming driveway," he explained. "I sort them good and make garden, you like?" While I'd normally rebuke him for using a Buddhist style, the result was so stunning -- especially considering he'd sorted the stones by color and size and arranged them entirely in the dark -- that I was speechless.
I'm not sure where Pablo learned his methods, but I sure was glad to have the maker of the world's best cold medicine cooking right here on my property!
Sadly, Pablo's nightmare came true. Only a few days later, half a dozen black helicopters with logos from a certain company began circling the cabin. Surely, this must be Big Pharm, coming to cash in on Pablo's secret family recipe.
I heard gunshots, then a sudden loud blast as the cabin exploded in a ball of fire! Apparently, Pablo's cooking methods led to highly flammable by-products.
Alas, Pablo and his family recipe are no more. And the laborers? They seemed to run out of steam the day after the explosion, and wandered off down the road, twitching and muttering to themselves.
Happily, the people from the black helicopters gave me $150,000 in bearer bonds and the free use of an industrial cleanup contractor to remove the remnants of the cabin, in exchange for not revealing the name of their company.
All's well that ends well, I always say!
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot the point! This thread is about tithing recipes. Pablo's family recipe allowed me to title an extra $1,500 a month for several months, PLUS another $15,000 out of the payment fromPf that unnamed company!
Ahh, ladies, all these recipes remind me of how, just a few years ago, Rosa came to me and told me her brother Pablo wanted to open a little cooking business on my property. It seems he'd figured out an efficient way to produce a traditional family cold medicine, and was afraid that if his recipe got out, the Big Pharmaceutical companies would steal it!
Being the thoughtful and generous fellow I am, I agreed to rent him a secluded 2,000 square foot cabin on my property, in exchange for the paltry sum of $15000 a month, plus yard and cleaning laborers to help out my staff. He happily agreed, with the stipulation that I would use my considerable local influence to ensure that the police did not allow anyone to invade his privacy.
A few weeks later, trucks began arriving every few days, delivering his supplies. Cases of Sudafed, lye, iodine, denatured alcohol, and other items. Once I saw the exhaust fans blowing smoke out the vents, I knew he was in business!
About this time, my regular staff grew upset and they all quit. I assumed it was because I'd arranged for additional labor to help them, and maybe they thought I was going to cut their pay. Rosa said they were afraid of Pablo and his methods, or something.
Well, I didn't want him attracting undue attention from his competitors or driving off new staff members, so I generously added filtration devices and improved ventilation hoods for his cooking area.
Shortly, I saw the vehicles carrying his cold medicine off to the distributor -- armored Hummers. Goodness, it almost made me wish I got colds now and then, if the stuff was that precious a cargo!
Finally, he brought two laborers by; a young woman to clean house, and a young man, to do the yard work. "Come now," I asked, "Do you really think TWO people can handle my estate? I had a staff of twenty!"
Pablo assured me that they could manage. You see, they'd had his medicine and been miraculously healed of pneumonia, and were eager to show their gratitude.
Imagine my surprise when I got up the next morning! They'd both worked all night long, and were still at it. I nearly tripped over the young lady, who was on hands and knees, scrubbing the marble tile in the foyer with a toothbrush. "Eet must be peerfect!" she exclaimed. "PEERFECT!" And goodness, was it shiny! Strangely, so were the ceilings. I do believe she'd waxed them.
The young man? Why, he was cutting the lawn one blade at a time with nail clippers, and putting each clipped blade in a collection bin as he went! "Must use SHARP cleepers," he said. "Otherwise, grass BURRRN from sun! Cleep, cleeep, cleeeep!"
He had already trimmed all the hedges into topiaries depicting scenes from the Bible -- I saw Onan and his wife, Lot with his two daughters, Jonathan and David expressing their brother-like love, Samson with Delilah, and what I believed to be Jacob wrestling God -- vacuumed the driveway, and installed a raked-stone Zen garden. "I got many stones from vacuuming driveway," he explained. "I sort them good and make garden, you like?" While I'd normally rebuke him for using a Buddhist style, the result was so stunning -- especially considering he'd sorted the stones by color and size and arranged them entirely in the dark -- that I was speechless.
I'm not sure where Pablo learned his methods, but I sure was glad to have the maker of the world's best cold medicine cooking right here on my property!
Sadly, Pablo's nightmare came true. Only a few days later, half a dozen black helicopters with logos from a certain company began circling the cabin. Surely, this must be Big Pharm, coming to cash in on Pablo's secret family recipe.
I heard gunshots, then a sudden loud blast as the cabin exploded in a ball of fire! Apparently, Pablo's cooking methods led to highly flammable by-products.
Alas, Pablo and his family recipe are no more. And the laborers? They seemed to run out of steam the day after the explosion, and wandered off down the road, twitching and muttering to themselves.
Happily, the people from the black helicopters gave me $150,000 in bearer bonds and the free use of an industrial cleanup contractor to remove the remnants of the cabin, in exchange for not revealing the name of their company.
All's well that ends well, I always say!
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot the point! This thread is about tithing recipes. Pablo's family recipe allowed me to title an extra $1,500 a month for several months, PLUS another $15,000 out of the payment from
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