Matt told him to open his mouth and close his eyes, and he’d give him a big surprise. And just as he was about to try and jam the cowturd in, Thomas clamped down on his hand like a dog that hadn’t eaten in about a week and started gnawing it for all he was worth.[…]Then he had to open his mouth to get him a big breath. And the old cowturd went right in there.[…]But I’d be lying if I said I didn't enjoy watching Thomas eat the cowturd, too. But part of me also hated watching Thomas eat the cowturd. Because I knew that it could very easily have been me eating the cowturd.

The official estimate of the feedgrain requirement in 1980 is about 125.0 million tons.

I explained to him that I am not usually a drunken slut-bag who screws friends of friends.

Is all things well, According as I gave directions?