Today I think I'll write about Hot Tubs. Not so much anything
informational or factual, just hot tubs. Say it a few
times...hot
tubs. hot tubs. You wish you were in one right now, don't you?
Well, the house I just moved into has one in the back (hint to
those
who are thinking of visiting me, as I'm sure you all are), and
man is
it good. You get all rubbery and light headed, your shorts (or
whathaveyou) fill with air and float you up, then you squeeze
the
air out and giggle at the fart in the bathtub noises, then you
feel
like you're going to pass out. Then perhaps you do.
You wake up with your face directly planted in the crotch of the
family dog, still clutching that glass of milk, naked to the
world.
Sure, your roommates are upset; sure the dog won't leave you
alone
now; but really, isn't that what hot tubs are all about?
Isn't it?
Poofy Froofy Vol 1 No 1 (Supplement)
April 9,1999
Since publishing my views on hot tubs, I have been notified, by
my
mother no less, that hot tubs cause impotence. Now, this is a
shocking
development and I would'na (that's for you paul) got so gushy
whisodoodical about the whole thing if I'da knowd. So color me
backpedaling, though it may not stop me. This computer can't be
doing
me much good either.