We're watching the final time trial for the Tour de France and I am, of course, bitching about the heat. And then Archie starts to pick on me.
"So I've scheduled a person to come over later for you to try on fur coats. And then I thought we'd buy a kiln and fire some pots. The furnace guy is getting here later and we'll have to close up the house and run the heater for a few hours. And to finish off the day, sex, me on top, under all the covers. How does that sound?"
I don't think a jury would convict me if I killed him.
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