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I have a bizarre urge to do something with the caption “I’m not sayin’ it wasn’t your brother-in-law, Bob, I’m jes sayin’ he had a whole lotta legs on ‘im!”

I have no idea what image could possibly justify such a caption, mind you, but the phrase is rattling in my head like gravel in the washing machine.

I would like to attribute this to all those drugs in my youth, but without a control me to test against, I can’t prove that I wouldn’t have been weird anyway.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.