Pineapple Express: Someone Is Wrong on the Internet?

My family lived in the house I grew up in for twenty years. When my parents were moving down to Florida, they did a deep clean of the house. Under the stairs to the basement was a storage cupboard that my mom used to store extras and little-used items; mostly, it had a bunch of spare spice tubs, some liquor, and the occasional box of crackers or something. My dad, in cleaning it out, discovered an unopened jar of prune juice in the very back of the cupboard.

My Dad: "Look at this! It's still sealed! Why didn't we ever use this?!"
My Mom: "Uh... I don't think I've ever bought prune juice..."
Me: "Uh... Is that from the people who previously lived here?..."
My Dad: has already opened the jar and taken a swig "It's fine!"

Narrator: "It was not fine."

My dad was okay, but he ended up staying home sick for a day or two. The rest of the prune juice ended up in the trash.

I have already warned my wife that I will probably turn into this guy someday, and she needs to keep me alive. Somehow.
 

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My family lived in the house I grew up in for twenty years. When my parents were moving down to Florida, they did a deep clean of the house. Under the stairs to the basement was a storage cupboard that my mom used to store extras and little-used items; mostly, it had a bunch of spare spice tubs, some liquor, and the occasional box of crackers or something. My dad, in cleaning it out, discovered an unopened jar of prune juice in the very back of the cupboard.

My Dad: "Look at this! It's still sealed! Why didn't we ever use this?!"
My Mom: "Uh... I don't think I've ever bought prune juice..."
Me: "Uh... Is that from the people who previously lived here?..."
My Dad: has already opened the jar and taken a swig "It's fine!"

Narrator: "It was not fine."

My dad was okay, but he ended up staying home sick for a day or two. The rest of the prune juice ended up in the trash.

I have already warned my wife that I will probably turn into this guy someday, and she needs to keep me alive. Somehow.

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My family lived in the house I grew up in for twenty years. When my parents were moving down to Florida, they did a deep clean of the house. Under the stairs to the basement was a storage cupboard that my mom used to store extras and little-used items; mostly, it had a bunch of spare spice tubs, some liquor, and the occasional box of crackers or something. My dad, in cleaning it out, discovered an unopened jar of prune juice in the very back of the cupboard.

My Dad: "Look at this! It's still sealed! Why didn't we ever use this?!"
My Mom: "Uh... I don't think I've ever bought prune juice..."
Me: "Uh... Is that from the people who previously lived here?..."
My Dad: has already opened the jar and taken a swig "It's fine!"

Narrator: "It was not fine."

My dad was okay, but he ended up staying home sick for a day or two. The rest of the prune juice ended up in the trash.

I have already warned my wife that I will probably turn into this guy someday, and she needs to keep me alive. Somehow.
Narrator: She won't.
 








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