We have these large trash cans sitting just outside the fence. One of them actually gets used for trash. The other is half-full of battery acid.
Don't ask me what the fuck the battery acid is about. That's Sunshine's shit.
So is the cooler and the buckets of sour mas and the doors and back hatch to the Jeep that live behind the magic bus.
The sour mash is for the wild boar.
Sunshine would probably look like an episode of "Hoarders" in the making if I wasn't constantly screaming at him about how all of his shit is taking over the last three nooks I was using for my last few things I actually own anymore.
The man has a whole explosives shed filled with shit sitting in my yard. He has hunting shit and bug-out-bags and meat slicers and heaven-only-knows-what-the-fuck-else stored in the basement storage compartments under the bus. He has shit stored in his work warehouse that has fuck-all to do with his work. I'm pretty sure he has 63 pounds of sweatshirts, jackets, and thermal undershirts hiding in his truck smelling like Satan's body odor, and I know that he keeps a cooler and some other random shit in the back of his jeep.
He really cooked my noodle the other day, though. He came pulling up with
in the back of his truck.
What is it?
A giant barrel full of corn.
What the everloving fuck?
I'm sure it's for the deer, or the fucking wild boar, or something.
That's a lot of fucking corn. Could you please dispose of the battery acid now?