Whilst travering through the city centre, a pungent odour pervades the air...
Of course - it's the drunken flirty harlot shop!
And what temptatory advertisement is chalked up on the sarnie board to get you inside to exchange cash for bath bombs?
"GRAB OUR FUN BAGS"!!!
Now, maybe it's just me, but surely enticing men off the street with the proposition of the mammarial massagement of the serving wench's lush puppies is somewhat extreme!!
It may well be that the scented salesbird behind the counter has a fullsome pair of funbags, but if I marched in and started delving into her over the shoulder boulder holders and grabbing their gahoonies, I'm pretty certain I would not exit with a raft of sweet smelling showery stuff.
Much face slappage would be the order of the day, with the additional calling upon of burly policefolk to set about my person with betruncheonings galore.
I know sex sells, but really...
