I don’t know if you’ve noticed (and thank you for not mentioning it) but I’ve lost my funny.
I’m not sure where it went, but I suspect it’s somewhere in the guts of the chicken coop. Or maybe it spilt out of me when I sliced my hand open last week, building the chicken coop. It’s entirely possible I lost it in the massive piles of chicken poop piling up in my backyard. Or it could be in the last place I’d think to look, in the Jesus shaped phlegm from my cold that’s splattered … you guessed it … all over the side of the chicken coop.