The closest thing to an insane asylum we have in Northern California. When people finally go insane they don't send them to and asylum, they send them to Prunedale. So this is why I think this. My Dad and Step mom were sitting on the couch together. Then my dad says, "Hey honey what stinks?" "I think its your pits" then my step mom says, "No, I smell like roses" "It must be your feet" Long story short they end up smelling each other until finally they find out my half brother Levi, tool a crap in his pants. I mean there are tons of other reasons that I think that Prunedale is gods gift for the clinically insane. What do you think?
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