I asked Brantley to look at my eye. He chuckled, "You have pink eye." I'm not sure what else he said because I was too busy throwing punches into the air. I do NOT sit on public toilet seats. I do NOT lick door knobs. I wash my hands all the live long day, and yet here I am oozing funk and resembling a Garbage Pail Kid.
This only leaves one question. Wanna make out?