Monday, the Fredster was guiding my wheelchair as it was being lifted into the car, when a very lanky-skanky prostitute came sashaying by (we're located between two major thoroughfares), and called out to him, asking if he wanted a good time (I'm chopped liver or she didn't see me. Or both.). When Fred cheerfully answered that no, he was fine, thanks -- without missing a beat, she wanted to know if he needed help with yardwork, then! I about fell out of the car at the look on his face!
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