Yesterday as I was leaving work, I was subject to a cat-call. I know some women get offended by cat calls, and some would be grossed out, but me? I was sort of weirdly flattered. Because nothing says, "I still got it!" like 3 middle-aged scruffy men who likely smell like a dumpster ogling your chest and whistling from the cab of their primer gray/forest service green pick up, the rear of which is loaded up with (I assume) dumpster-diving treasures.
Oh yeah, baby. Still got it!
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