“Omaha, 1949. I was 19 and as a late developer, yet to dip Little Warren in something sweet. Flush with cash from a summer job, my friends blindfolded me and threw me in the back of a pick-up, then dropped me off in front of the Milner family farm, which Mr. Milner had turned into an after-hours brothel earlier that year (his daughters, the milkmaids by day, also served as the “milk”-maids by night, if you catch my drift). Well I just got so excited to get my teats suckled, Becky, that I started pulling money out of my pockets and handing it to one of the girls and before I knew it we were up in the rafters, hay and whatnot flying everywhere, the whole barn is shaking, the chickens are going nuts and it wasn’t until later I found out for the price I paid I could’ve had all three of ‘em and gotten the reverse double fisted butter churn. To this day, never again have I mispriced vaginal assets.” Continue reading »