Menu Close

In which the New Yorker pursues a lover.

Once, Laura and I were making love. When we were finished, she rolled over and saw an iPhone laying in the indention she had left. “Did we MAKE it?” she asked.
“That’s funny! I don’t feel Chinese.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.