The idiot box in the bar is showing the commercial where the dorky guy in the car is rocking out to Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’, really, such bad taste must be commended. After 8 beers, conversations such as these are bound to ensue.
Older lady: I wonder why he’s holding his hands up like that
Me: Well, because the music video for Warrant’s ‘Cherry Pie’ featured a girl with humongous mammary glands.
Older lady: Oh yeah?
Me: Yes, in fact, during the 80s, legions of testosterone fueled teens spent an eternity fantasizing about the size, shape and feel of those breasts on many a lonely weekend.
Me: In fact, the only epic thing about the entire glam rock genre was the prodigious size of the sex organs, from gigantic phalluses to chests like these.
Older lady: Do you always talk like this?
Me: Sometimes, yes
Older lady’s older male friend, from the other side: Martha, what’s going on over there?
Older lady: Ok, I have to go, bye
Me: Later
My friend M, whom I was in the bar with: What the hell was that all about?
Me: Tits.
