I dove into the desert and became a sand trout.

I engaged in the “affair-tolerant monogamy” variant when I was younger. I discovered there’s a positive curvilinear relationship between amount of drama and number of romantic partners. I am sometimes barely able to handle my own incidental drama, so it didn’t last more than a few years.

It is pretty surreal, huh? I cope through irreverent humor, which will probably get me sent to a concentration camp, but it’ll also get me through living in that camp. How that ends is open to interpretation.

I have no concerns if he wants to force feed himself grain mash in the privacy of his own home. I draw the line at involving innocent waterfowl, though.

He could be into inflation play.