“I laughed my head off!”
Julie was a friend of mine while I lived in Cairns, in Australia’s tropical north. She was thirty, but had let herself go a bit and had gone to fat. But she was great to be around, full of life and laughter and very down to earth. There was no BS about her at all. If she felt something, she said it. Julie did not know I was an exhibitionist.
Anyway, I visited her one afternoon and I could see immediately that she was busting to tell me something. And she did…
“I was talking to Bob,” she said (Bob is Julie’s neighbour), “and he was talking and talking and talking, until I finally looked down and saw that it was pointing straight at me.”
“What was pointing at you, Julie,” I asked.
“His…you know…”
“His what?”
“His…thingy…”
“No,” I said, “you’ve gotta be kidding.”
“And,” she continued, “it was pointing right at me.”
“No. People don’t do that.”
“And I just ran into the house and laughed my head off.”
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