My wife says we have to start pinching the pennies, because our savings are running thin. She says there's less money for roughage. And I'm concerned, because roughage helps me move my bowels. It's leafy. Why not stock up on the shit, and maybe spend less money on TRIPS TO THE GODDAMN HAIR SALON. What does she mean, "cut back on roughage?" How does this make sense in the universe? She's a loon.

Grandma needs a perm every time the wind changes direction, and do I complain? No, sir. But if I could maybe use a little salad from time to time to keep my bowels from seizing up then suddenly I'm a worthless peen. I'm not a big vegetable man. You know that. I like my food killed and grilled, like most humble folks. But come on, greens keep the meat moving, you know? And that's good, because you've gotta make room for more meat, don’t you? It’s only practical thinkin!

Now I'm all upset. Isn't this bizarre? Honest to God I can't really imagine she actually said "roughage." It must have been something else, like... luggage, or... maybe paintball. Grandma never liked paintball all that much, though. She looked cute in her little helmet, but I think she started getting tired of me shooting her head. It's a tactical move, that's all. I gunk up her faceplate and then take her down hard with a few good shots to the gut. You should see how she tries to laugh it off for my sake; it's so sweet.

But hell, I'm no peen. If it's thrifty she wants, then no more paintball for us. I'll miss it, but at least my bowels won't explode. Now I just need to find a less expensive hobby... I've heard good things about dodgeball. Hmm. Maybe I'll run out and get one of those dodgeballs, and surprise my wife when she gets home from her hair appointment. She'll be so tickled!