Today, on the Micomarachio, when the cop goes up to Cleetus, Cleetus, he says,

How you doing tonight, sir? And Cleetus, Cleetus says, and I quote,

Well, just drinking and driving and plowing, and it's obviously a joke he's thrown out there.

And not a good deal.

And really, if the air had been sucked out of the situation anymore, Snow would have started falling up.

It was so silent. And the officer said,

Well, that's probably a badly placed joke. I hope.

You know, some people have one love in their life. I had two. Joe has talked about this.

You have three. So far.

And so coming back, they cleaned the fish like they do on most fishing charters, right?

And the seagulls are just all over the place.

But dad, a seagull, pooped on his forehead so hard. Now, standing right next to him.

Oh, no. And we laughed. It hit him so hard he went,

out. Jesus.

Like that. We saw it. All that and more.

The mycomeratio starts now.

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