Kanab Pant Emergency (contains S-word)

Feb 25, 2012
The scene was set at Windy Hill by the brick shithouse, high on the hill. It was 27-degrees out, my son and I were ambushing longbeards aboard the USS Ground Max. He was cold and I had a rumble caused from a fresh batch of groceries. The produce is the first to get eaten at our ranch. The coffee did its job of policing any and all idlers and moving them along, a depth charge. Fortunately there were no birds in sight to educate. I had finished opening the blind door with my back I made a mad dash for cover. As I am in quadruple speed, it dawns on me, (not the fact that my son and I have been eating apples and fiber-laced granola bars the last two mornings) that my suspenders are UNDER my outer four layers. WTF?

To Be Continued...