You know if there's one thing that really mushes my bananas, it's Florida. Two words, one reason: Skunk Ape. Really? I mean, I have one crazy Spring Break there back in 1974 and it's all they can talk about. But it's not like I'm getting positive press. Nyooooo, for some reason some wise guy decided to call me "Skunk Ape" instead of Bigfoot. Ha ha ha. Because evidently I stink. Did anyone in that great state ever stop to think that maybe it's not me, maybe it's the humidity? And I'm not going to have that fresh smelling feeling after wrestling some stupid alligator that just took my last corndog. Just cause I don't smell like oranges or sandy beaches doesn't mean I'm funky skunky.
But I gotta say, 1974, yeah, that was one crazy week. Nair was all the rage, and man, I don't even remember who dared me... I think it was Cyclops. Anyway, I'm just glad no one saw that...I'm already confused with George Clooney enough as it is.
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