Saturday, February 20, 2010

Sex Talk, by Cousin Clem

Well I'll be damned to Van Diemen's Island. I just got a look at the prettiest little thing on ten toes walk right past me here in the library. Her name is Jen and she's the librarian. She told me to keep it down because I talk what I type out loud. So now I'm whispering like a mischievous little mexican-indian but I can hardly contain myself because Jen is a true beauty the likes of which this Kentucky fried fool done nuther seen. But what really rusts my buckles is the sweat smell of perfume she's wearing. Smells like Angel dew atop a mound of fresh cut grass. Now add a pinch of cilantro. So I ask her, "Excuse me, miss, but do you have the time?" She says, "It's a quarter of six, the library's closing in a few minutes, sir." I say, "That's quite OK darlin' I'll just kick back here at this computer desk on account it's my siesta time. I'll let myself out the window..." "Sir" she says, "You can't stay here. You'll have to leave when we close in five minutes". Well I look her up and down like a chunky monkey on a banana ladder and I say in a real low bottom tone, real slowly and seductive like, "Call me Clem." Now I can't swear to it, but I'm pretty sure at that moment I saw her boob parts jiggle.

And that's how you know.

Oh yeah, I also I had my "lucky" key chain on me ; )

- Clem