Thursday, October 13, 2005

Won't you let me take you on a sex cruise?

It's a legit question. One any upstanding gentleman would be proud to ask that special lady, or any lady for that matter, regardless of how well acquainted they were. Won't you let me take you on a sex cruise?

It is a question that 17 Minnesota Vikings players may or may not have asked any of the multitude of 'exotic dancers' or 'professional intercourse providers' which sailed Lake Minnetonka a mere week ago.

Let's say, hypothetically, that I were to ask my wife and fifteen or twenty random women which I had never met before if they all wanted to join me and five or ten of my friends on a clothing optional, binge-drinking, coke-fueled gang bang on a local lake, possibly by the name of Lake Minnetonka.

I wouldn't have the slightest clue of where to begin, hookers or blow. Oh, the tough choices a man must make when faced with bowls overflowing with 100% pure, Juan Valdez-approved Colombian cocaine, a three-gallon jug of Courvoisier or two or three of the cheapest hookers money can buy.

Where to begin?

Maybe multi-tasking is the answer.

However, if I were actually one of the 17 Vikings cruising Lake Minnetonka on a boat rented by Fred Smoot, I would probably slam down a pint or two of Courvoisier, rip off my tear-aways exposing my bulging defense, bend over one of the rented intercourse experts to snort a fantastically long line of Colombian snow from her exposed derrier and furiously run for her endzone, of course, scoring a touchdown and proceeding two drive one in for a two-point conversion.

Now that's the type of multitasking that gets the job done.

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