When you inherit $2,000,000 dollars in the 18th century, you can buy yourself anything you want. Like 4,000,000 whores. Or, if you’re Merritt Adamson, you buy the entire city of Malibu. We visited his house; it’s now a museum.
Even with all of Adamson’s cash, one thing he couldn’t possess was this kickass chicken pot pie, because Marmalade Café didn’t open until 1994. But I owned it, Merritt. I owned it good.
When I was a kid, if I didn’t stop kicking an adult with my filthy feet, I would have had the shit beat out of me. Simpler times. But I was able to warn my nephew that if he didn’t stop, I’d post a really embarrassing pic of him. This is the second most embarrassing one I took, Spanky. Your move.
I’d love to tell you about my Jewish mom tearing these guys a new one for putting a Hitler mustache on Obama. But she just blew past them while searching for a public restroom.
