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Last night I was at the coyote bar pool hall taking the money off the wannabe hustlers at the table... this woman strutted in with her Jordache tucked into her snakeskin boots. Brown leather Wild Bill Wild West style jacket with dangly sleeve fringes covering up her Knight Rider tshirt that was cut off midriff to show a belly button that I at first thought was pierced, but in better light saw it was just hanging lint.
I said "hey sweetheart what's your name?" She came over and was all like flustered and stuttering and going "oh hey.. at my age.. your balls should have my name... I mean my name should have your balls... I mean my name your balls no... your boys your balls my name... your balls.. my... balls... my... uuhmmmm gotta go."
As she staggered away, no doubt with confusing thoughts crashing through her head (I could hear the collision of such thoughts) at why on earth such a heavenly vision that had a body more perfect than Apollo and a face more perfect than Jude Law had decided to visit her watering hole haunt.
I don't think she heard me say "what a bitch" either as she left.
I bet she on some internet board now telling her version of that incident. I bet she lies.
I said "hey sweetheart what's your name?" She came over and was all like flustered and stuttering and going "oh hey.. at my age.. your balls should have my name... I mean my name should have your balls... I mean my name your balls no... your boys your balls my name... your balls.. my... balls... my... uuhmmmm gotta go."
As she staggered away, no doubt with confusing thoughts crashing through her head (I could hear the collision of such thoughts) at why on earth such a heavenly vision that had a body more perfect than Apollo and a face more perfect than Jude Law had decided to visit her watering hole haunt.
I don't think she heard me say "what a bitch" either as she left.
I bet she on some internet board now telling her version of that incident. I bet she lies.
