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I had it a few times while i was working at the racetrack, we had this australian trucker who shipped horses for the trainer that I worked for, and he had TONS of it in his truck, he tossed me a jar of it and i tried it. He told me to make a grilled cheese sandwich with it spred on both peices of bread, so I did, and it was actually good, in a strange way.
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You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
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