“I’m hitting the sack”“Are you twenty-nine or sixty-nine?”The devilish dimples appeared. “Twenty-nine with a sixty-nine waiting at home”
“And kissed her for a hundred and sixty-nine years.”
“When Julia was twenty-nine, her hair was already bar-coded. Now, at sixty-two, it was a solid helmet of bright pewter, level with her lean, brown jawbone.”
“A sixty - eight, he wants you to go down on him but he won't return the favor. It would be sixty-nine but he owes you one.”
“Then wine me, dine me and sixty-nine me,” she growled. “Feel free to reverse the order.”
“I'm sixty-nine years old, and I have no plans to run for reelection. Do you think I give a damn?”