Percodan!
They're left over from my hysterectomy. They've expired but I think it's ok.
How about the cattle truck pulling up alongside Schmidt's motorhome with each of the cows giving him a knowing glance? We're all cattle my friend, destined to die anonymously and soon.
A lot of the "humor" is like that - simultaneously a sad statement about impersonal boring middle-American existence. Like when Warren goes out to mail the letter and his wife reminds him not to dilly-dally (don't you dare enjoy yourself or do anything spontaneous). So after the sterile shopping mall post office visit, the height of Warren's rebellion is to go order a Dairy Queen Blizzard (but when pressed for which size, he still whimps out and chooses "medium").
He soon makes up for it though, by peeing standing up and splashing it all over the place.
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