I remember the first time I laid eyes on Susan B. Anthony. She seemed like an uptight broad but I thought deep down there might be something inside of her. Perhaps a wild sex machine just ready to burst out and attack me. When she got into the carriage she didn't want to neck even a little bit.
I offered her a little gin and tonic but she only scoffed at me. Said she was a part of some "temperance movement" and that I should get my act together or I would burn in hell. Well that really got me temperanced and I almost hit her. But before I could, she socked me in the jaw with a huge box of Quaker Oats. She didn't mean to do it, she said. Told me she had only brought the Oats because she was feeling famished from all of her protesting and needed a little snack.
Told her she could snack on some of my manhood. She didn't like that very much.
When we got to the prom she didn't even want to hang out with me at all. She was just standing around with all of her girlfriends and was getting really friendly with this girl Liz Cady Stanton. Some of the fellas on the cricket team say that Stanton eats box, although that's merely hearsay.
By the end of the night I was ready to take her up to the hotel room I bought with my dad's credit card but she said she wasn't feeling well. Before I could even walk her home she threw up all over my new shoes. I guess that thing deep down inside of her was indigestion all along.
All I know is that next time I'm bringing Harriet Tubman. I heard that lady likes to get down underground.