A very loosely related story to trigger dongles. My second career way back in the day was installing fences. All chain link. Galvanized everything, we'd cement post in and come back a week or so later and put up the rail and wire. This combination of galvanizing and the lye in the cement which we hand mixed in a wheelbarrow was pure hell on hands. Especially for new guys with girlyman soft hands. Most hated gloves and they didn't help all that much anyhow.
Anyhow we had a new kid (I weren't much more than a kid my own self) and of course his hands were cracked and bleeding pretty bad.
We'd discovered the best thing breaking in was Bag Balm. Comes in a square green can, looks kind of like Vaseline but don't smell as good and maybe thicker. It's actually made for putting on cows' udders, not sure we're allowed to say **** around here.
So anyhow I told him all this and told him to hit the drug store and get some and use it for a while to save his hands. So, he hits the store and his story was a cute gal saw him searching the shelves and asked he she could help him find something. Told her he was looking for Bag Balm. Of course, she didn't have a clue what it was, so he was gonna impress her with his vast knowledge and told her you smear it on your **** to keep them from cracking and drying out. (apparently left out the part about the cow). Well needless to say the cute gal was some put out at the very thought, and he thought she was gonna get physical in an unpleasant manner. Fortunately there was another rather old gal working next aisle over and heard the exchange.
She came over and saved his life, told her not on your **** but on cows **** and took him right to the stuff. He lived to put up another fence another day.
True story.
I knew it, can't say tit's, guess I should have went with mammary glands. Course I never heard of a cow with mammary glands. Oh well.
What????? Tit's, ****. We can say tit's but not ****. My apologies, I'm way overthinking this.
In Memory of Paul "Dietrich" Stines.
Dad: Say something nice to your cousin Shirley
Dietrich: For a fat girl you sure don't sweat much.
Cue sound of Head slap.
RIP Muggsy & TMan
"If you are a warrior legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that JOCKO will not come today."