The other night, Red and myself were in city centre observing the whacky towners. We sauntered down main street after leaving the Pub. A crowd of young women met us at the crosswalk. One of them caught my eye, as we crossed paths.
She was wearing a very tight jersey and an even tighter short leather skirt. It looked as though she had painted it on. In my stupidly half inebriated state, I said something that I would normally never ever say. I blame the ‘Merkan version of Guinness.
“Damn gurl, did you have to melt that thing on, or did it come attached to yer hips?”
She smiled and kept walking, her friends giggling in the background.
Next thing I knew, I was getting slapped in the back of the head. I don’t know what for. I was just genuinely concerned for the girls well being. 
So, I pulled Red to the side at the bridge and whispered one of my best lines, as the setting sunrays made her ginger ringlets radiate like threads of gold.
She playfully started trying to knee me, where I didn’t need to be kneed. Accidently, she went a bit high with her playful game and I hit a higher note. I let on that it was worse than it was, so she and I hobbled back to me truck.
All is well now, thankfully.
I must have a target on my head that only women see!
Moral of rambling: Keep your big mouths shut, men.
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You twit.Never comment on another woman when you’re with a woman. Save that for the boy’s nights! Playfully knee’d you? O dear are you sure? Happy that your manhood is still intact!
I’m a twit, all right. Me manhood is still intact.
Thanks for the comment, Baino.