Bad dates? Not the fruit.

[ohiosmith]

We met at the Hullabaloo on sunset. Her name was Shelley. Her dad was in the Lawrence Welk Orchestra. On the way to my place in the hills I torched a doobie. After a couple of hits, she blew chunks on the dash, console, and carpet of my 65 Impala SS. I drove her back to The Palladium, took her to the lobby, and told the receptionist that her dad was in the band.

I sold the Impala four years later. I never got the smell out. :puke: