I can't remember if I ever told you this, but I find myself eating a chocolate covered banana, which reminds me of the last time I had, one, so I'll just tell you now.
Anyway.
When I was 18, Dollie and I went to Cedar Point and stayed in a motel nearby over night. The first day we were there, you called in the evening just after I had woken up from a nap, and I'm really quite certain you thought I was drunk because of my slurred speech.
I wasn't drunk.
My tongue was being an asshole because I'd just had it pierced twice, and when you get your tongue pierced, you start off okay in the morning, and then as the day goes on, it hurts more and more because you've been talking and eating and so-forth.
The more it hurts, the less you want to move it. The less you move your tongue, the dumber you sound when you're attempting to form coherent sentences.
The moral of this story is that chocolate-covered frozen bananas on sticks are absolutely amazing snacks.
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