Adler and I were not in a serious mood yesterday afternoon. Blame it on Rio. After partaking generous amounts of Rio, he recounted a conversation overheard at one of Joplin’s classier dives. The eavesdropping involved a young man’s poor attempt to entice a young lady off her bar stool for some “Fear of Flying” backseat car sex. After more Rio, we drained the remaining sunlight concocting terrible pick up lines. And the least disgusting winner is:
Excuse me. I couldn’t help but notice that you could really use a good, hot shower. My parents have a roomy walk-in, with little seats on each side and three flexible spray nozzles. Mommy likes the convenience of sitting down when cleaning out her dirty place. What say you and I go lather up?
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