I like to think myself a gentleman.
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And I’ve been to a few clubs.
I’ve even been to a few … gentlemen’s clubs.
(I realize that readers of this column can be of any age [Hello, infants!] and promise to remain as chaste as possible, given the upcoming subject matter. Do not worry about putting your fingers in your metaphorical virgin ears - I will finger them for you.)
Now, let’s go … paint the caboose.
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