Stuckey's. Oh what fond memories those are. To be filled with hate at such a young age… There was a Stuckey's on I-94 annnnnnnddddddd… They don't have them anymore in Michigan. This was years ago now. But we would stop on the way to Terre Haute and just fill up the trunk with pecans. Filled up completely. Had to put the luggage and the toilet seat in the back. Big old garbage bags filled with roasted pecans. Scooped from the bags into the trunk with bare hands. Nobody washed. That was the specialty. And oh were they good. They had a nougat log roll. With lemon and cherry flavor inside the nougat. And Stuckey's always wanted to sell you a log roll. All we needed – only thing Pastor wanted – were the pecans. Just the pecans! Simple! We had to fill up...
It was then that I decided to specialize in a type of animation that utilizes live snakes. Which led to the student academy award. Which led to the purchase of white shoes. Which led to a carnival ride being named in my honor. Which led to striped pants being outlawed in this state. Which led, finally, to me seriously considering adoption.
And, so, no, Anchez, I don't know your real mother. I don't know what challenges she faced. But I love you. And we, us, your family loves you. And we will always support you. And your “pretzel-shaped” leg.
After the break, our exclusive interview with the Dollar Palace back office employee microwave.
Presented without commercial interruption by our friends at Liquid Tire Corporation.
A group of concerned local businessmen have united once more for their annual caroling sessions. These are important civic figures responsible for the town's pig drowning pits, leather polishing operations and precious stone warming tents. They set the agenda and make sure things are kept running smoothly all year. These stewards ensure anybody caught mumbling through the pledge of allegiance are on the other side of city lines come sundown.
Donning festive “Santa Hats,” they march through the streets, voices aloft in joyous unison, bringing a message of hope and renewal. Harmoniously they chant, again and again, without deviation: “You Have No Choice, You Have No Choice.”
For up to 8 hours each night of advent.
It's a whole factory of tambourines, dammit! It's yours now! Nothing but tambourines, the means to make them and special rooms covered in animal furs in which to test them! Test the tambourines, I mean! Not the animal furs! Not much you can do with those! This here's a tambourine operation! You own it! You own all these tambourines! And gallons of tambourine oil!