C'mon John. Got nuthin? Not even milk? I'll tell ya'bro', and make it ez for ya' .. You can drag your cigar through 9 miles of broken glass just to touch the last bumper of a 3 trailer semi-truck train that's haulin' away my single used prophylactic device for a ticket away to anywhere, even to my hot mum's place. And if you swallow real nice I'll let you listen to my massive gaseous cloud of flatulence over a ta-312/pt field phone while you're at mum's place trimming her grass. She'll even give you a couple quid for a subscription to Miss Manners. I hope that wasn't too harsh for ya'.