Tell me you've seen that movie... Dennis Quaid, Martin Short, a syringe, and an inner body experience? God, I love 80s movies. Anyway, I digress. I'm sitting here, after lunch, and my stomach is making the most Godawful noises. Okay, I understand, it's digestion and it's normal, but my brain is certain that someone injected me with a microscopic submariney thing with Dennis Quaid in it and he's fighting miniscule zombies or some shit in there.
Hey Dennis, can you take a trip south and maybe punch me in the cervix if I'm pregnant? You know, like an inner high five or something? Then I can stop spending my retirement on pregnancy tests. Those bitches be expensive, yo.