I've been reading up on my family history and stumbled upon an interesting find. My uncle Steve considered himself to be somewhat of an explorer, but he mainly just used that as an excuse to go get drunk in exotic locations and fool around with their ultra-cheap, bargain-bin whores. The bitter irony of his all-too-early demise, however, is that, somehow, he actually caught the syphilis from a mosquito, and the malaria from a prostitute. I guess one never can be too safe, can he?
You're welcome.
No comments:
Post a Comment