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After my third bout hanging over the porcelain god, I...
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began thinking that maybe it was not such a great idea that I
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eat raw oysters ever again.
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Suddenly, I felt my
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heart sink as I watched
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with amazement as her
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new lesbian lover
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pulled out the biggest
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pair of men’s briefs and
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Happy mountain oysters on easter Sunday!
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On this fine Sunday, my thoughts gravitated to
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the time I
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made all the bloody mary cocktails for our family's
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bi-annual get together in remembrance of
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Uncle Clint's parole.
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