I, Billy F. Marlin, babe-magnet, God’s-gift-to-women, best lay this side of Colorado, stepped into the house and wanted to say the words, “Honey I’m home.” Why am I nervous? She’s just another babe with hooters, but for some reason I’d have given half of my night’s haul to yell those words and have her come running.
I was no movie star or even partially famous. . . well, okay maybe in Clancy’s I had a little fame, but in reality I’m just some guy, able to bench press 280 and think on my feet. Continue reading