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My mom held on to just about everything, but for rid of all my early 90s GI Joe’s and my stack of big box computer games.

My poor poor Sierra collection fine to the charity shop once I moved out.

Man, the couple years I qualified for $175 a month in food stamps was great. I still had plenty of things to worry about, but eating wasn’t one of them.

Then I got promoted at work with a .25 cent raise and lost the benefits, effectively making me poorer than I had been previously.

Still qualify for low income housing, though, which is nice.

I’m guessing anyone patronizing a pub that is crawling with cats has already been exposed to toxoplasmosis, to be fair.

You haven’t met my mother’s Siamese. The cross eyed bastard will scratch around in the box, line up, and spray all over the wall/floor outside of the box.

Don’t even get me started on Bawk-kake…

Yeah. The modern method of acres and acres of one species being farmed, with or without pesticides and other performance enhancing drugs is terrible for the environment.

For many animals, you might as well build an asphalt parking lot for each acre of corn or soy you plant. Same goes for Western grass lawns.

The critters that can’t adapt starve or move away.

The only truck I’ve heard is to make sure you repeat their name vocally once introduced, like ‘Nice to meet you, Xerxes!’

I always forget to do this, though so everyone at work knows my name and I only retain leadership’s names.

‘Born to shit, forced to wipe.’

The opposite of this is being that one kid in your kindergarten that completely drops trow at the urinal.

I had a roommate that asked me for ideas for a tattoo and I told him to just get ‘Chinese Symbols’ written in all caps on him.

The amazing bastard did it.