Clean living, that’s the way to go. All it took is ten days of bacterial misery to remind me. Clean living, that’s right. The Back Porch Bar and Brothel is closed. The absence of pain and suffering is brand new like a shiny penny today. There is a certain tedium to be endured, I won’t deny, but the thought of seeing (your name here) in the rear view stokes the coals of resolve.
After all, it’s summer, and that means bikini season, and I want to look good in mine.
We’re breaking new ground here at the circus. My feats of abstinence will astound and amaze, like my buddy David Blaine told me, ” This sure beats workin’ for a living”.
The Fish Slap will be coming to a close soon as the surface temperature at the retention pond behind the Church’s Fried Chicken is approaching the level of a deep-fried thigh ( I prefer the dark meat) straight from the grease. Expect some sort of final challenge, with prizes and a party afterwards. For the duration of the summer the race will be held indoors at the Diffenbaugh building on FSU campus, 4th floor, so get some slicks.
when you say bikini, what exactly do you mean? Are you talking a two piece with polka dots? Because that’d be kinda cool. But if you’re talking speedo, I’m scared. It’s not nice to scare little girls you know.
I know, and anyone can be fast if they do everything right, how mundane ya know? I am thinking of this time more as beer appreciation time. think how good that next pint of Guiness will be for me.
And Sascha- I usually just wear whatever bikini the ladies happen to leave at my place.
So what are you saying? You ride naked?
All righty then, we’re moving on here.