So last night I had some major breath issues. I mean it was horrible. Apparently some time yesterday I ate a dead goat and it was coming back to haunt me. It wouldn't have been that bad if I would have been able to contain the beast with a stick of gum, but that Huba Bubba didn't even put a dent in it. I tried everything- gum, mints, brushing, flossing, but nothing would cut it. So I said screw it and went to the bar. I am happy to report that after 8 shots of tequila I couldn't smell a thing.
This does remind me of a dream I had where I met the guy who invented how to test your breath with your hand. He was a truck driver and he was all sorts of bent out of shape because he showed some hitch hiker how to do it and that guy in turn told everyone he knew, so now everybody in the world is walking around doing it and he doesn't get one thin dime for coming up with the idea. Then his truck driving momma grabbed me and we took off in his big rig.
Come to think of it, the night I had that dream I did 8 shots of tequila too.
1 comment:
He lives! After a great deal of anxiety and speculation, it is confirmed that the Violent Farmer is still alive! Even if you have dead goat breath, I could still kiss you full on the mouth- that's how happy I am that you're still kickin'. Keep drinking tequilla and you may want to kiss me back! I'm a good lookin' sonovabitch.
PS: Read my blog for a Screech Update!
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