There exists a story of an Eskimo gentleman come down to the Lower Forty-Eight to try his hand at farming, only to come to naught when he could not fallow his fields in the right order. I'd call it "The Lore of Unintended Corn-Sequences," but I'm just not that Inuit.
Dear me.
ReplyDelete"intaboro" - the town between Murfreesboro and Boonesboro, or alternatively, the competition between Brooklyn and the Bronx for city funds.
Dear God, Neddie! How much have you had to drink today? That is SUCH a groaner!
ReplyDeleteI once crapped a double helix, with unintended corn sequences...
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