I can't live with myself any more. I'm not the straight shooting farmer that you thought I was. I mean, I'm not like into Bob and Earl or anything.. sheesh, that would be down right freaky and wrong. The Lord would smite me for that kinda stuff... though as I think about it, it *would* be kinda hot if his wife, Betty, was all worked up and got us to fool around with each other before diving into her from both ends... but eh... where was I? Oh right! I'm leaving you for Betty.