I pulled into a town I couldn't believe still
existed in 1999.

A dusty, dirt road, a little old wooden store that
actually said "General Store", and that was it.

There was a little old man sitting in front of the
store in a rocking chair. I said to him, "What do
you folks do around here?"

He said, "We don't do nothin' but hunt n' fuck."

I said, "What do you hunt?"

He said, "Somethin' to fuck."

My wife and I were watching a show on The Learning Channel titled, "A 
Dog's World." One segment focused on dogs practice of urinating everywhere 
to define who they are and whose territory it is, among many other things.
"Basically," the narrator said, "dogs are leaving each other messages."
I looked at my wife and said, "So I guess we could call it p-mail." 

A while back there was a "true" story (urban legend) about a guy
who was interrupted by the doorbell.

Upon opening the door he found some religious nuts who were very
annoying. As he was in the middle of preparing dinner, he'd gone
to the door with a very large knife in his hand.

At some point, he called out to his friends asking if they'd gotten
virgin ready for the sacrifice.  At this point, the callers fled
from the home, never to return again.