I’m not sure how widespread or common this one became, but
... In the 1970s, a lot of Vancouver’s young hipsters were reading about Tibet in republished memoirs, article reprints from old
National Geographics, historical-romance novels, etc.
One guy I knew a bit, a musician, used to say to his bandmate (when he deemed it was time to leave someplace) “let’s take a yak back to the shack, jack.” He’d say that, though his friend’s name was Joe. (The actual name of the person the impulse was shared with didn't matter.)
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