I like to laugh. Tears of a clown. As I wrote the other day in a manuscript—I’ll paraphrase—the ability to laugh has gotten me through some not so freakin’ funny chapters in my life.
But does comedy have any business rubbing up against erotic like a kitty in heat?
It wasn’t that long ago no one would have considered mixing peanut butter with chocolate. What a tragedy. If it weren’t for those klutsy folks on the Reese’s commercial (it might have been a reenactment), our lives would be PB&C free. Me, I like popcorn and M&Ms, but that’s a topic for another day.
What say you? Sex and belly laughs?
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