A Talk with Dad by Tom Horonzy Dialogue Only Writing Contest contest entry |
Hey, Dad. I met a girl.
A girl with curls unfurled?
No. Her hair hung down to ... you know where. Much akin to Joan of Arc? No. Ms. Arc wore a bob, so she could see the enemy. This gal's hair was like Lady Godiva's. My bad, dude. I got confused. Momentarily. How come? Because, if I remember correctly, they both rode horses. Was she on horseback? Sort of. Huh?
She was in a Mustang. Its top was down. Was that all? I don't understand. Well, Godiva rode around her town au naturel. I could only wish, but no, she wore a blouse. Anything else? Of course! Her bum was covered by Daisy Duke shorts with legs extending from here to there. She also wore high heels. How could you see what shoes she wore? She gave me a lift. She would have given me one, too. No, she couldn't. The back seat was occupied with her parents. I would have squeezed in!
Oh, Dad. You are a hoot about hooters, aren't ya?
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Tom Horonzy
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