Between bars, I found myself driving three of my friend’s friends the other night.
They dug out from the backseat crack, a long-forgotten VHS cassette entitled “Prenatal Yoga with Shiva Rea”. The cover sported a nicely-toned angelic female complete with third-trimester belly.
They laughed and laughed. I exclaimed: “Hey at least it’s not porn.”
“Well it kind of is…” retorted one.
