“That boy’s got rhythm!” the man exclaimed.
“Get him off me!” I protested, trying to push my attacker away.
The beast’s amorous advances took on a darker aspect, and he growled menacingly.
“He’s only being friendly,” the bystander assured, grinning like a Cajun inbred swamp-monster.
“I’d usually get wined and dined before I get this friendly with someone!” I protested. “And anyway, he’s not my type! I never kiss anyone who can lick their own butthole. Call me old fashioned, but that’s the way my mammy raised me.”
Reluctantly, the crazy dog owner pulled his pitbull away from my leg.