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I'm over at some friends house watching tv on the night that Iraq invaded Kuwait. We're hitting the bong pretty hard. There's a knock at the door.
Outside, there's this strange skinny guy, kinda like Gollum from the Hobbit story. He wanted to let us know that he parked in front of the house while he was "giggin' for frogs in da' ditch". He told us he knew people got kinda "iffy" about strange cars. He also told us he sold the frogs to local restaurants for froglegs.
I'll never forget where I was the night Iraq invaded Kuwait.
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"Asking a bomb squad if an old bomb is still "real" is not the best thing to do if you want to save it." - denim
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