3 weeks ago I went camping while jacking off and I came across my family doctor's grandma staring at a pile of leaves. As I got closer I noticed it wasn't a pile of leaves at all but rather a man that I recognized from somewhere. I realized I had seen him while on a trip to the UK last year at an authentic British fish and chips place my wife and 6 uncles had lunch at. He was vinegar balls Edward, an old fisherman who comes to your table for you to squeeze malt vinegar out of his balls onto your fries for an authentic British experience.

So here he is on my camping jack just laying there dead, I did what any smart person would do and I pulled out my Swiss Army knife and hacked off his sack. 2 weeks later I went back to the UK and sold his scrotum and balls to that restaurant, they were about to go out of business without malt vinegar so they were extremely appreciative when I brought them the vinegar balls. The mayor of the town named a street after me and gave me six packs of smokes. I smoked them all that day despite being a non smoker because I needed to show that I was thankful for the gift.

In 3 months I'll be going on another camping trip with my step grandpa, no jacking off allowed this time but maybe I'll find a corpse that'll haunt me forever. All it takes is 6 packs of smokes and a pocket full of belly buttons. That's right, I'm totally a smoker now because smoking is the coolest fuckin thing anyone could ever do.