Let Me Clear My Throat

Larry David,

What's up? Me? Kickin' it, Fuzzy Navel style. I ran out of beers and had to dip into Anna's peach schnapps. That's not a euphemism for vagina, either.

Nothing makes a man feel gayer than having to drink peach schnapps. Except having his balls licked by a gay guy. That would be gayer, I suppose.

Anyway, I know that if me and Anna ever get divorced, it won't be because of infideltiy or financial problems or conflicting idealogies. It will be because of my constant, chronic, and habitual throat-clearing. Every 30 seconds. Over the course of a year, that could be potentially maddening. I know that I would not be able to endure that sort of punishment. If you think about it, it's sort of like water torture only without the water. Anyway, I didn't have much to say but I did want to say that I called it. Five dollars if I get it right.

Holla at ya boy!

Paul