Another way for me to disappoint women

I accidentally touched a hot coal with my tongue, and it burned off like a fuse on a firecracker. I thought since I had walked over a bed of hot coals with my bare feet, I could take anything. And one's mouth always seems able to bear hotter heat than skin when eating. But I'll be damned if a hot coal isn't just too damn hot for a tongue. The good new is that it has yet to effect the enunciation of my typed words. The bad news is that unless I can get a giraffe to fill in for me, I shall never again be able to pleasure a woman.




I meant with my conversation, of course. And giraffes are renowned conversationalists.