It’s 2001 and one of us is super excited to be going horseback riding with my cousin in California. *ONE* of us is.

As has been previously established, I do not trust horses.

It’s 1995 and I think this wood nymph wants me to follow her into the forest, should I do it?

Definitely.

It’s 1998 and the new telephoto doubler I got for my phone lets me surreptitiously take photos of my wife sitting on a rock … uh-oh, busted.

It’s 1997 and somebody is wearing my shirt.

Hint: It’s not the dog.