…and when there was no meat, we ate fowl, and when there was no fowl, we ate crawdad, and when there was no crawdad to be found, we ate sand.
Please, accept the mystery.
Well, the little guy was kinda funny-lookin’.
I do not care a thing about guns. If I did, I would have one that worked.
Only a numbskull thinks he knows things about things he knows nothing about.
Howdy, Curt.
I detect, like me, you’re endowed with the gift of gab.
You know, for kids!
You want tact, call a tactician. You want an ass nailed, you come see Gus Petch.
Maybe it was Utah.
Edwina’s insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase.
Eight year olds, dude.
They took his hair Tom. Jesus, that’s strange.
Runnoft. R.U.N.N.O.F.T.
Did he - blow the shofar?
It’s a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart.
Must float like a leaf on the river of life… and kill old lady.
Where does he work? Where does he work?
You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don’t wanna know about it, believe me.
Where is pancakes house?
What heart?