Oh yeah, so Timmy, that's my tomato guy. You got a tomato guy? Yeah. You ain't

a real Italian unless you got a tomato guy. It's true. He just stopped my Home Depot and how much you rack up?

I figured you get above 50. Tomato cages. Little fertilizer.

Oh, buddy. Yeah. Tamate a cage. That's what I call married to an Italian that you don't love.

That's what I call a fiat.

Dude, what do you think of the likelihood is that we actually eat any of those tomatoes? Oh, well, last year was an abomination.

Dude, this guy came last year, made us a ton of fruit, didn't eat a single piece of it.

Well we had pickling cucumbers that would just let feed way too long and they turned like

fucking orange and red and I thought the mice or something

would eat him, but we got a backyard cat

so we don't have any vermin.

I love the idea of like, you know, it's like a murder of crows yeah like a busheli call it a

Fiat of Italians

Fiat a Wops. What are you?

Fucking dirty, just dirty cajun mutt, dude?

Yeah, you are a cajun what.

I ain't got no pure bloodline.

I don't know where those eyes came from, dude.

I got no loyalty to nobody. And you don't know where those eyes came from. I got no loyalty to nobody. You don't know how to do black face?

You don't know how your family wound up in New Orleans? I mean my mom's family is just from the beginning,

from dirty dirty. It just grew out, dirty, dirty beginning.

Dan, they're the hardcore like mud dwellers?

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