"not only am i saying it's ok, i personally bash at least 7-10 of the gays a day."
He hit me. And it felt like a kiss.
Recently, on a road trip, I found myself at a state fair. And what should we find ourselves watching but a police dog exhibition featuring five dogs and approximately eight state troopers all struttin' around like they'd had a double order of Chef-Manardee Testosteroni for lunch.
So they get to the drug sniffing German Shepard and they have three suitcases. They kept referencing that one suitcase "must belong to Ozzy Osbourne." Because that's the level of wit that passes as a punchline with a certain cohort.
So the dog gets all aroused at that suitcase and the cop opens it and pulls out a ziploc bag of pills. "Oh look," he said as he walked around the exhbition ring and right when he got in front of me he said, "he found Ozzy Osbourne's suitcase." I said loud enough for him to hear, "Looks more like Rush Limbaugh's." The cop seemed a little startled, lost his place, and yes, I laughed at him. I did.
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