I ate a brown mismatch of groundbeef, milk, cream cheese, and mayonaise for breakfast. Been coughing up curtled chunks all afternoon.

I owned a similar dog back in the 60's. I'd shoot squirrels out of the tree for him to feed on.

My coworked Todd keeps pouring yellow vials into my coffee when my back is turned. I should be suspicious, but whatever it was has never made me feel more alive.

This is a good one. The same thing happens to me with beer. My kids tell me to stop, but they don't understand how good I feel.

Happened to my nephew's gerbil.

I ate soup with raw chicken the other month and was bedridden for almost a week. Would've loved for some care during that time, but my family has been avoiding me like the plague.

My uncle wouldn't let me sit in his antique chairs when I was younger because i'd drink gallons of milk and stain the furnature from my other end.

I made a simular arguement about my nipple shirt. Got written up.