A few years ago I was going through a divorce and one of the things I had to do was list all of my assests. I mean, they wanted me to list everything I had that was of any value.
So I sat down and listed my vehicle, tools, fishing gear, most of my guns, everything that I owned that might be worth anything.
As I was sitting there going over shit in my mind, wondering what I might have left out, I spotted my 13 year old coonhound laying in the middle of the floor, snoring and farting and enjoying his comfortable old age.
You want everything of value to me? Fine, motherfuckers.
Item: One each old hound dog. Value: Priceless some days, absolutely worthless other days.
The paralegal typed it up that way and the judge must've been a dog lover because she laughed out loud at my next hearing.
No comments:
Post a Comment
All comments are moderated due to spam, drunks and trolls.
Keep 'em civil, coherent, short, and on topic.