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… but he would not quit me, and finally told me that he should lick me, or I should lick him...
The Private Memoirs And Confessions Of A Justified Sinner
We stopped in downtown Corning to get pizza with my grandparents last night. While they and my sister were inside ordering, my mum and I were sitting on a bench near by and talking. While there was a lull in the conversation, this man walked by. I want to say he was about 5'8, stocky, and had an extremely stark farmers tan. He had dark, chin length hair that was pushed back, and a goatee. He wore a wide brimmed, leather cowboy hat, a t shirt with the sleeves and part of the sides cut off, loose jeans, and cowboy boots with spurs on them. The shirt had a whole paragraph about "the future of agriculture" on it. As he walked past us, his spurs a-janglin', he said in a surprisingly high and superior voice "It pays to be a military brat". Once he was out of earshot my mother proclaimed him "interesting," at the exact same time as I said "my husband".