this stinky bunch of rascals is my niece and nephews. they’re all fueled by goat milk. it’s pretty tolerable to get puked on by babies, but not if they’ve been drinkin goat milk. one day one of em hacked up on the bottom of my jeans, and i kind of ignored it. a few hours later i was like, “dude, WHAT is that SMELL?” and i couldn’t figure it out. every now and then i’d get a whiff of a smell that would almost curl my toenails, and i kept looking around to try and find it. another hour or so later, in some golden glance of inspiration, my eyes got big like quarters and i sat up straight and thought, “oh, no – my jeans.” i bent down to take a whiff and it was like a mangy, wet goat found it’s way to my legs about three weeks earlier, got nice and comfy, curled up and died. that stuff could make a vulture gag.
we say grace, we say ma’am - if you ain’t into that, we don’t give a damn