Show Me Your Hooters
Driving in traffic today, I got behind an 18-wheeler semi truck with a sign on the back that stated simply, in red, capital letters: SHOW ME YOUR HOOTERS. This poses a few queries in my mind, even if in no one else's: 1. Does that work? Are there women out there who'll strip off their tank tops and let boobies flap in the wind just free for the asking? 2. If one was going to entertain such a notion, how do you maintain control of your own vehicle whilst freeing said hooters? Philosophical questions such as these boggle the mind, and will likely puzzle scientists and theologians for millenia to come.
Comments
It came to me in a dream. I don't know anything about how throats can close up, making you fear for your very life when you shoot too much agave juice while trying to stupidly multitask, Jess.
It does take some time to get the art of Gazelle-ing down, Amanda. I wasn't drunk yet but thought I'd get started during my last few minutes of being on the thing for the day.
Nah, I don't shoot whiskey anytime, Aza. I'm not that advanced a drinker. ;) Only the occasional mixing with Coke for the Jack D. and me.
As for the exercising... Nah.
RCS
Ickiness is but one of the fascinating facets of the universe, Rob. :)