When he emerged from under her blue knitted dress, his beard glistened with her ecstasy. He was tired, hot, and sweaty from his purposeful labors in the late summer heat. His face reeked of ass, and he knew that now was not a good time to buy milk from Trader Joe’s. He would need to wash up, first.
Yeah? Do you get it? It’s a metaphor. I think I know why he met her for. He’s a very clever language specialist. A cunning linguist.
—DG
Inside Doug's Head 