Kevin's right

One moment, your in the sunny arms of North Hollywood. The next, your at this high-end estate in Upland with gazelles. Then you find yourself around a bonfire. The mallows are out and you try to heat one with a skewer too short. The fire is too hot to get the skewer anywhere near it. Then you decided that it can't be done. So you decide to slow roast the mallow over the hickory smoke. "You smell that sweet hickory smoke in the air." And then the dude from Black Angus who shaves his face with a knife responds, "Smells a lot like life to me." You decide that your mallow is done filled with that hickory smoke flavor goodness. But you can't eat it just yet. You have to let it rest and let the flavor set in. That sweet hickory smoke flavor. While that mallow was only half-satisfactory, partly because it was slow cooked to medium and partly because you had the herpes skewer (the skewer with the herpes on it) you proceed to the cave of prophecy. As you approach it, the walls release this odor that you can only describe as beduci. But it's so bad, you just call is bedoos. At the cave of prophecy, you are disappointed because it's not as deep and prophetic as you thought it would be. You leave thinking "that wasn't according to prophecy at all." And they tell you "Your interpretation must be wrong. Are u familiar with dead language?" But the night ends as most nights do. And you chill with the husky brusky. Thanks for showing me what life's supposed to be. I almost forgot.