I wanted to do one of those old school photo montages where I took a picture everyday. It becomes a real chore trying to find time to expose your dump truck. Call it sunken cost fallacy, but my butthole has done a lot for me over the years.
I mean, why do we take pictures of our offspring? They’re keepsakes to remember how they’ve grown. When I play them the montage on their death beds they can finally say, “you sure have grown into a giant asshole.”
Why do you hold on to them?
I wanted to do one of those old school photo montages where I took a picture everyday. It becomes a real chore trying to find time to expose your dump truck. Call it sunken cost fallacy, but my butthole has done a lot for me over the years.
…Why would you do a photo montage of that?
To send to my grandfathers.
Why?
I mean, why do we take pictures of our offspring? They’re keepsakes to remember how they’ve grown. When I play them the montage on their death beds they can finally say, “you sure have grown into a giant asshole.”
My best guess is hemorrhoid followup - what would you do, ask your neighbor to look and comment on your butt?
Oh dear. I guess that’s what’s necessary.