Fucking Texas, bitches!
Yes. It is good times. Surreal, but good times. My friend took me to a very special store today, and due to my decrepitude or the sheer quantity of margaritas I have consumed, I have already forgotten the name of it. (I'll play intrepid reporter and come back with the name later, okay?) The point is this: Sweet baby Jesus, I didn't know you could make that many clothing items out of camouflage. Maybe Mike Timlin did, but I didn't. I visited the Gun Library and used the appropriate hushed tones. Whilst marveling at the wonders of the "Lemon Squeezer" (am I the only who will always hear Led Zeppelin at the mention of lemons and, ah, squeezing?), this little boy said, "Daddy, can I live here?" I almost fucking died. I booked it out of the gun library so I could laugh amidst the many freakishly stuffed and mounted animals and reams and reams of camouflage.
Hello, Texas.
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