My younger cousin once came back from a fishing trip at a local pond in Nebraska and kept talking about the butt fish and how its face looked like a butt. So you'd ask him what he meant and what did it look like, and then he'd drop his pants and moon you and run away.
His name was Garrett, and now he's married and took over the family ranch. I wonder how his wife puts up with him.
My grandfather owned a farmhouse out in Nebraska, and we'd go out to the "crick" and wade around in leech infested waters and get bit by mosquitos until sundown. Then we'd pick ticks off the farm dog and dread going to the bathroom because he had a rule "if it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down"
He also ran a nudist colony in the desert in California during the winter months. Interesting man.
I got into an argument with a coworker over whether or not Grover qualifies as a sex icon. Everyone agrees that Gonzo is, but Grover was much more divisive.
My ex-girlfriend used to break oatmeal cookies over my bare chest and would vacuum it up with a Bissell handheld vacuum. She'd call me her oatmeal boy and make me empty the vacuum after we were done.
She got out of prison last year and tried to crash at my place. Haven't heard from her since.
After shooting Christian Bale had trench foot on his entire body but refused medical treatment, claiming "The real Batman wouldn't view trench foot as a villain."
Where do I get the rat slippers?
Asking for a friend.