Full Disclosure

Gadzooks, You People Are Nosy!

OK, for the record, (and thanks SO much for the emailed inquiries) I do NOT spend my hard-earned cash for the peddled poonanny. Never have. Probably never will.

I got no beef with the wimmenfolks & menfolks who trade cash for tail, but whatever personality quirk it is that keeps me out of Hooters, tittie bars and porno shops (99% of the time, anyway) also prevents me from soliciting prostitutes. Part of it's fear of arrest, that's for damn sure. Part of it's pride. The most compelling reason, though, is fear of an encounter with Mary Jane Rottencrotch and her collection of exotic venereal diseases. I'm very fond of all my assorted appendages, and have no wish to see one or more decompose whilst still attached due to a raging case of Lower Slobbovian Weenie Warts.

So, why the "LIQUOR! LIQUOR & WHORES!" in the previous post? Just a joke from long ago. Anybody remember Norm Macdonald's Bob Dole impression on Saturday Night Live? There was one skit where the Presidential contenders were going door to door, trying to drum up support. In the skit, "Bob Dole" is trying to convince a voter not to vote for Clinton, saying, "He'll raise taxes, then spend it on liquor! Liquor & whores!" The voter slams the door in his face. Later, the doorbell rings, and the voter opens it to see "Bob Dole" standing there with a Clinton mask on, screaming "LIQUOR! LIQUOR & WHORES!"

I dunno why it tickled me so, but for years I've been annoying Zibig & Rockhauler with unexpected announcements of "LIQUOR! LIQUOR & WHORES!" at inopportune moments.

So, there's the rest of the story.