“Why on earth did you tackle me?” he defends, turning this around on me. Typical. “I was saving you,” I point out incredulously. “From a skunk that can’t even spray?” he counters ungratefully. “I didn’t know that at the time, you ass. It twerked in my direction, and I got the fuck out of the way. I didn’t stop and examine its equipment.” “Gibson does not twerk.” “Hate to break it to you, Rogan, but he sure as hell does.”
