FENDERLESS SUMMER, the summer that Freddy Fender died...
“Hey, Freddy Fender crapped out on October 14th, so go *******!”
   “Turn off the gas valves. I'm coming home in a wiener truck!”
   “Alright, I'll have your guns loaded & *****-trapped to **** you.”
   “Thanks Marge. I'm probably going to change my ******
orientation 17 times between here & Monroeville.”
   “Sounds good. Eat a chipmunks that looks like me.”
   “I will.”
  “This pointing-loaded-hare-trigger-guns-at-myself habit/addiction is dangerous! If I don't break this habit I'm goin' to be fatally shot!”
   “No you won't get fally shot, not as long as you're careful.”
   “Will you stuff my casket with rags and do the cha-cha?”
   “No, or maybe a little bit, if I'm not hot from an ***-rash.”