8th month of the year … I guess that means something but I don’t have it in me to come up with some witty paragraph that encompasses our autistic love of firearms and near radical hatred of our current government so just use your imagination to pretend I said something profound but also hilarious.
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This morning my wife (doesn’t exist) asked me to clean my yeti bucket and boots off the front porch. I did that. This evening she asked me to clean my tools and other shit off the back porch. My question to the group: what is she planning?
Her boyfriend was just tired of tripping over your shit every night. Nothing to worry about fren.
Get out of the house more. You're imagining a wife. Or it's your unconscious telling you to get your house ready for sale so you can go buy 100 acres in Montana.
I call Tennessee
One volunteer for the volunteer state?