Who out there doesn't find pure joy in being covered with fecal matter ?
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On a semi related note, while on a road trip, a stop was made to take a photo of a grossly bloated roadkill deer than looked more like a brown balloon with hooved legs pointing out at odd angles. The photo was had and attention was then directed at the nearby RR tracks.
Greenhorn tagalong "John" was directed: Whatever you do, DO NOT poke at it!
Tell a kid not to stick a bean up his nose, what's the first thing he does ?
John was 25, but a bit of an urbanite, unwise in the forces before him.
Heard from the tracks: $#@! %$#&! )-(%$$@!+@%!
Arms held out and away from the body, he was slimed. Covered in pure love of the finest quality. Meat wine with a savory bouquet. He just stood there cussing, soaking in the full impact of the mistake he'd just made. There was no water. And he sure as hell wasn't getting back in the car. It was a beautiful moment.