The voice that came in with the legs was just as gorgeous. "Spam Slade, I presume."
I bumped the Scotch as I sat up again, but I managed to catch it in time. Yeah, she was a real looker, all right...
My 92 Plymouth was limping along in traffic, the exhaust system proudly announcing my presence as I rolled along. I needed a distraction, something, anything to take my mind off this horrible dilemma that had embedded itself into my sub-conscience. Like a hamster on a wheel it spun round and round yet never went anywhere.
I flipped on the radio only to hear a song by the big hair band Poison. Gah, no, I wildly reached for the dial to change stations but it was too late, my loins began to stir and as the blood rushed to my penis. "Oh shit, will I always be cursed" I mumbled to myself while flipping the radio off.
It wasn't that I found anything about the band Poison to be arousing, but rather they reminded me of Amy, my ex-girlfriend, who had the best 80's big hair that I've ever seen.
Amy loved to give head and she was quite adept at it. So adept at it, in fact, that I will forever have the picture of her big-hair head bobbing on my manhood burned into my brain. As such anytime I hear a big-hair band song come on the radio I think big-hair->Amy->great sex and I get aroused.
Alas! Big-hair band erections have been a source of embarrassment for the past 5 years, but not my biggest problem at the moment, I still needed a way to figure out how to crack the Liebowitz encryption before the Feds, or I was looking at 20 years hard labour...
Warmest regards, --Your best pal Bob