Great fucking work on the twitter page. Sad ending... Stan will be missed. At least he provided us with a shit ton of laughs.
He took at least 3 shits, hit the lamp, the fridge, and the wood floor. I imagine there are more, I should probably check, he was flying all over the place for a while there.
Go dissect his poop on the lamp. It may give us clues. So we can go bring him back home. We have found a preteen at teen night at the local library I think we can find an owl
Those shits would make great Secret Santa gifts. And, if there was a feather left behind, that would be off the hook.
Still nothing on the coyote? This may sound odd, but I'd really like to know what it feels like to fully understand that a fucking coyote is inside your house. The panic must be exhausting.
I am working under the assumption that Stan killed NWGator's entire family, has taken over the computer and is now posting as the OP. Hello, Stan.
Really happy that he didn't see this thread. No dump and no SWAGG reduced the cringe element in an elite thread.
Someday, somehow, I'm going to work this quote from NWestGator into a conversation: "Before we left for dinner, without my knowledge, my mom put ham on the back porch."