"I have this cousin who has a farm," man one says.
"Yeah?" Man two prompts.
"He's a little weird. He lives alone, and I guess he gets lonely. He likes to fuck the animals," man one explains.
"That messed up," man two comments.
"No, what's really messed up is how he feels guilts afterwards and kills the animals he fucks," Man one states. "Then he butchers them up and eats them."
"Wow," Man two says.
"He's having a pig roast this weekend," man one says. "You want to come along?"
(If I understood why conversations like this happen in my head while I wash dishes, I feel that I would be better able to understand the very strange nature of my mind.)
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