My son nearly busted a gut. Virtually all of my memories of Boy Scouts involve farting. I asked curiously. You cannot tell which way the train went by looking at the track. There is absolutely no substitute for a genuine lack of preparation.
Happiness is merely the remission of pain.
Nostalgia isn't what it used to be. Sometimes too much drink is not enough. The facts, although interesting, are irrelevant. The careful application of terror is also a form of communication. Someone who thinks logically is a nice contrast to the real world.