My Brother Is Not A Drug Lord A good many years ago I rolled up at my brothers house in the middle of the morning on a weekday, unannounced. I knew he was at home, but had no idea what I was walking into. Knowing he was home along, I started to just walk on in, but the door was locked. I knocked and he came and unbolted the door and let me in. Theres no way to describe what I saw when I walked in. There where stacks of money everywhere. Every denomination. (Okay, I called him earlier this morning to see if he minded me writing this - I dont give a damn. I ended up having to put it all in the bank during lean times) He had sold cows, made all sorts of trades where people gave him cash. While looking to the future, he put it all in baggies and buried it down in the pasture under a big tree and left it for awhile. When he dug it up it was a wet, moldy soggy mess. So he was in the process of cleaning and drying it all when I arrived. Hence the locked door. He had experimental stations setup, where he was washing it, microwaving it, baking in the oven and even had the ironing setup and was ironing it. He thinks the best thing he came across was washing it with a bleachy water to kill the mold, then microwaving it. He said it was really fluffy coming out of the microwave, but once he vacuum packed it, it seemed to go back to normal. The one mistake he made during the whole ordeal (besides burying it in the first place) was punching in an extra zero on the microwave. Instead of 40 seconds he accidentally punched 400, which translated into four minutes. He was just sick when he completely burned up $2500 dollars. It was mostly a pile of ashes. After I arrived, I got into the act and together we made short work of that chore. And no, Im not at liberty to discuss the amount of cash that we laundered (literally) that day. But it was a day to remember.
Posted on: Fri, 05 Dec 2014 16:56:03 +0000