I like tits.
I love tits.
I love tits so much I think I might die.
Tits are god’s triumph.
Tits are hypnotising, all consuming.
‘I’ve spoken to the manager and we can offer you the money,’ I say.
It’s a lie – I’m fully aware this girl has the wit of a peanut, zero qualifications and wrote her business proposal in glitter pen.
‘I’m so excited!’ she squeals.
Her tits are the best.
‘So, drink later?’ I say.
‘Oh… I’ve got a boyfriend.’
I laugh, like I wouldn’t seriously cheat on my wife.
Tits – they’re dangerous weapons.