Phil had a good weekend
“How many people have you slept with?” she asked me.
“A gentleman never kisses and…” I said suavely.
“I’m at four hundred and seventy-four,” she said without hesitation.
“You’re at four hundred and seventy-four what?”
“Dudes.”
“Oh. Umm. Wow. That’s great, I guess? I bet you can’t remember their names! Ha,” I said. I nervously wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.
“John, Fred, Phil, Phil, Phil, Phil, Phil, Phil, Phil, and then Phil four hundred and sixty four more times,” she said without breaking a sweat.
“How many guys have you boned named Phil? And how is that even possible?”
“Oh, it’s possible, Lee,” she said, and miraculously pulled a name change form out of her bra.
Like I was gonna say no.
