Denny’s

It’s an old story. I enjoy my Maple Bacon Sundae, which is a real thing, punctuated by quick hits from the flask I keep tucked in my jorts. The taste of banana schnapps reminds me of a very special evening in a very special McDonald’s PlayPlace. I am alone, but not lonely—if that makes any sense lol? The happy hum of my fellow diners keeps my spirits high. My erection is hardly noticeable.

My waitress becomes more beautiful with every passing moment. She started out as a sad bitter wretched sickening old smelly old hag of a woman, but now she’s basically like Phoebe Cates somehow had sex with another Phoebe Cates and somehow birthed a baby who was then raised in an organic cruelty-free hottie farm, given a steady diet of gourmet lo-carb meals and regular aerobic exercise and advanced lessons in the art of l’amour and working it and having a crazy-ass rack.

I leave her a 150% tip and a note that says: My VW Beetle (lime green) in thirty seconds. I want your moons over my hammy.

Now, we wait.

» Rating: PROBABLY TWO SEXY LADIES AT BEST, BASED ON MY PERSONAL TRACK RECORD