I noticed that Cooter was walking with his legs spread way out as we went to his car to look for a pipe in a Slidell hotel parking lot after Lollapalooza '92. I said, "Cooter, man, what the fuck is wrong with you?" He paused and gave me a Stymie look.
"I'm chafed," Cooter replied.
I just happened to think of that. In other news, ZZ Top is trying to take control of my mortal soul.