One morning, while lined up at our local YMCA to check in, a lovely young woman was behind me. She tapped me on the shoulder.
She: I understand you are a competitive swimmer?
Me: Yes I am.
She: What is your favorite stroke?
Me: (I had waited for this for years so I cut loose) In the water, it’s backstroke. On land, it’s breaststroke.
A girl in a bikini is like having a loaded pistol on your coffee table – there’s nothing wrong with them, but it’s hard to stop thinking about it.’