Good Ol’ Sturdivant Kleeb comes through in a big way today. First off, he’s not only promising Amanda Lynn his virginity, he’s promising his… well, lip-virginity. Lip-ginity? Lipoginity? Whatever, that he’s never kissed a girl before. Apparently the thrift store where he bought his Yale sweater didn’t have any women in it.
Even better, while most people trying to build a web of lies in hopes of securing first-hand knowledge of a woman’s womanly bits can keep their story straight for at least a little while, Sturdivant Kleeb contradicts himself in the very next sentence.
Amanda Lynn, meanwhile, shows some never-before-seen insightfulness, proving that you don’t need to be able to count to two to know when someone’s just after your sweet rural jumblies. But how does she pull this off, exactly? I’m assuming that she’s just phantasmagorically self-centered: Numbers belong to the mundane wold that everyone shares, but her nipples are hers and therefore matter. (I was going to say that they “count”, but as I’m not a fan of the wordplay gags in it would be a bit hypocritical to make that semi-joke.)
