Dying the next day, the stoned hippie prepared his stack of clean, white t-shirts for the upcoming process.
Before one of y'all says a word, I know full-well it's dyeing, After a late-night of chasing Kayla (and her gaggle of fellow intern hens) out of Connie's barn early this morning, she deserves to have some early dirty work to contend with. Dad blame it! Where the hell was that syrupy supervisor of hers? Those little heifers broke out a tube on the Miller Lite neon sign, and kept Constance up all night with all their carrying on. There's no milk for by bowl of Post Toasties this morning!
I guess he must've been up in Massachusetts, sneaking around in the shadows, figuring out a nonchalant way to unbolt that infernal mechanical bull again. Get that PBI on a leash or something, Lingustics Czar!