During our annual "Maine-Isn't-Really-Home-To-Vampires-Ghosts-And-Aliens-Like-Horror-Propogandist-Stephen-King-Says-Vacation", Future had (perhaps) the worst poop of all (not that I rate these things*). And guess who was the lucky parent who got it? The same one who can't stop talking about his son's defecation, that's who**. Ironic, right? And by "right?", I mean "I didn't pay attention in English when the teacher defined 'irony', so would that be it? Because I really don't know."
Finally, a documentary discussing how Hollywood celebrities became victim to the "Repulsor Ray" drug of the early nineties.
I mean, I assume it's the early nineties, what with the art/grunge goatee and the repulsor ray glove. That kind of dates it, right?
And by "right?", I'm just looking for more of a rhetorical confirmation, not really a response.
*Actually, I do. And this was off the hook, yo.
**The g-alented Mrs. J has the snot/boogers department all wrapped up, thank you.