If I ever murder my girlfriend, no court in the land will convict me.

[davywavy]

The scene. David and the she-David are enjoying a romantic home-cooked meal.
Me: Munch chomp chomp guzzle slurp chomp guzzle.
Her: Are you enjoying the apple pie?
Me: Buurp.
Her: David!
Me: In many cultures, loud belching is considered high praise to the cook.
Her: Well not in this one.
Me: Suit yourself. Yes, the pie is delicious. Did you make it yourself?
Her: I did.
Me: Not from a shop or anything like that?
Her: No! I made it myself from apples and pastry and stuff.
Me: It's very nice. Did you get the apples off the tree in the garden?
Her: No, I found them in the road.
Me:What?!
Her: I was cycling home the other night and i saw them lying in a lay-by so I helped myself.
Me: A lay-by?
Her: Yes.
Me: Let me get this straight. You made this apple pie from roadkill?
Her: I wouldn't call it that.
Me: Did any of these apples have tyremarks over them?
Her: Some of them were a bit bruised.
Me: But the could have had anything on them! I've seen people doing unspeakable things in the street!
Her: Well, you've eaten it now and you're not dead. Would you like some more?
Me:No. Thank you, but I think I'm full.

Comments

[gnommi.livejournal.com]

either way, if they were slung there it was most probably from one of those roadside greengrocer vans or something, discarded as being unfit for sale (so why bother carting them back).

I would have used them!
I'm with caseytalk most emphatically