I once had an aversion to deviled eggs because my dad’s second wife made me eat some when I was six and I threw it all up on my grandmother’s formal dining table.

But I overcame that through sheer force of Will when I was 28.

Butt-naked. Ill. Sherms. Gumbo. Chunky Steak And Loaded Baked Potato. Spicy Nashville Style Chicken. Primos. P-Dog. That's what you had. That's what you were eating, you couldn't taste it?

You all knew this was coming

A month or so ago one of my neighbors asked if I would want my kids to join the military and I said “this military? I’d rather they be a bum on they street”

Earlier this week I was at the grocery store and there was a fifties-ish man who was very well put together. And, in a grave breach of PNW protocol I said “Hey sir, I like your style. You got the well worn leather, the scarf, looking sharp man”

And he said “It’s all good brother. Tis the season”

Men would rather die than go to the hospital: (derogatory)

Men will hear “You may never recover fully” from a neurosurgeon and then do that anyway: (laudatory)

One of the TB sub commanders we were going after had been moved around from district to district because he kept doing things like slicing women’s breasts off and shit like that. And that wasn’t something we made up, it’s what other Taliban leaders were saying about him.

Yeah I dunno. Seems like a real paper shield to me.