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HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n
... keep reading on reddit ➡I had to run a couple of errands between then and now, so my memory might be a bit fuzzy, but I'll do best.
Friend 1: "Sarah"
Friend 2: "Shawn"
Future dad: "Sam"
Sarah: There is no good way to eat a taco. (There is a dismembered taco sitting on her plate.)
Shawn: I know, right? It's seriously the worst-designed food, like, ever.
Sarah: Back in [hometown], there's this restaurant that sells authentic Mexican tacos. There's no grease or anything, just chunks of chicken with guacamole and salsa and a bit of cheese on top, and it's SO GOOD. I really shouldn't even talk about them, it's just making me homesick.
Sam: You mean you shouldn't taco 'bout them?
Theres this kid named Sam that i played soccer with way back like 18 years ago. He had four fingers on one hand i dont remember why or how. I work with him now and when i first saw him i just remembered and said "we played soccer together." I was talking to my parents about how good i am with names and faces and told my parents about him. My dad coached my AYSO (the soccer league for little kids... i have a dad joke about that too) when sam was on my team. The dialogue:
Me: remember coaching sam? he had four fingers.
Dad: I dont remember coaching any Lord of the Rings teams.
