At lunchtime, she asks him if he’d like something. “How about a bowl of soup, homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?”
He declines. “The Viagra,” he says, really trashes my desire for food.
Come dinner time, she asks if he wants anything to eat. “Would you like a juicy rib eye steak and some scrumptious apple pies Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?”
He declines again. “No,” he says, “it’s got to be the Viagra. I’m still not hungry.”
“Well,” she says: “Would you mind getting off me? I’m bloody starving”.
