“I shouldn't be allowed to think when I'm drinking.”

“Wow, I'm surprised you remembered. When you left the bar you were crying and singing at the top of your lungs ' I got ninety-nine problems and the bitch is all of them.”

“Um, tequila please?” I asked questioningly, enunciating each word as best as my drunken mouth would allow. So really, it came out as “Uff, shakira pea?”

“Aaarrggg, ahoy me matey, thars a great grand vagina over yonder." Penises talk like pirates when I'm drunk.”

“Oh fuck, he was right there. I was wet as hell and he could probably smell me now. I should have eaten strawberries or melon or a dozen roses or an entire mint plant. Did that work for women? I read an article that it worked for men. Their spunk tasted like what they ate. Did my vagina taste like spaghetti right now? God dammit! I shouldn't have eaten dinner!”

“I'm sorry, what do you want to order?""A virgin. I want to order a virgin.”

“Are you really going back there with me?" I ask."Hell yes I am. Your wish is finally coming true. I will see your vagina. Plus, I really want to see the look on that woman's face when she gets a peek at your plethora of pubes. Your copious curls, your abundant bush, the wild mane that if it sees a spark will start a forest fire," she states."Are you finished?" I ask irritably."I think so. But give me five minutes and I might be able to get one more in.”