“Stars! Director? Story? Nada.”

I was 9 or 10 when my brother and our buddy found a really, really raunchy magazine (no idea the title) in a hay loft (!) on our friend’s farm. The images are still seared into my brain. Pretty sure we left it where we found it. I was kind of afraid of it.

Sorry stopped reading at “Because after all, it was just a f—king dog.”

Our newb mistake: We closed on our first house, which was new, while the contractor still had work to do. In our case it wasn’t so bad, mostly cosmetic stuff, but man, that was dumb. We got off easy, considering.