Flashback to a few months ago:
So The Mordo and I were hanging out at the McDonald’s near the office. Also, we were taking shelter from the rain (and we were finding an excuse to not go back to work) when this Kylie Minogue song played on the muzak. Since we consider ourselves experts on nothing more then the female body and all the joys it imparts, The Mordo and I had a discussion on the apparent hotness of Kylie Minogue (FYI: she’s still hot).
This image is meant to get your attention
Anyway, in the middle of a debate on whether or not a masectomy can reduce Kylie Minogue’s overall hotness (it won’t), we had this rather… interesting discussion:
Mordo: “Listen to her voice, Ade”
Ade: “Yeah, I am, what about it?”
Mordo: “Can’t you hear the hotness?”
Ade: “Er… what?!”
Mordo: “No, listen! Kylie Minogue’s hotness! It oozes out of her voice!”
Ade: “I don’t know what you mean but-”
Ade: “HOLY FUCKING SOUR CREAM ON A JESUS PLATTER MIXED WITH STINKY PICKLES! SHE IS HOT!”
Take note as I said “HOLY FUCKING SOUR CREAM ON A JESUS PLATTER MIXED WITH STINKY PICKLES!”, I began to dance around and started to make howling noises at that exact same moment. Basically, I looked like a pervert. Well, more than usual.
Also, by the time I got to “SHE IS HOT!”, a girl who was actually hot was actually in front of me, stopped walking and stared at me like I was some kind of rapist. (Yeah. Rapist. Who was she to judge me? I mean, that time with me and that donkey was different, but I’m no rapist. Just ask Pau.) I stopped, looked at her, gave her a sheepish grin, and said, “Hey there. Come here often?”
This, my friends, is why I win at life.