When I was in the first grade, I was convinced that Gene Simmons from KISS was my real dad. I wrote him a letter telling him so. Like my REAL real dad, he never wrote back.

I dunno that he had to be bossy, necessarily. I mean, I personally love a guy that’s ready for company. Maybe they were on sale and he was just a value shopper.

Nah, this one is 100% BS. I don’t care how big your pecker is, it’s just not going to get accidentally stuck in a door.

It’s called “Compensatory sweating”.