Uhhhhhh, yeah. She comin’ home. Uhhhhh yeah. I can smell it. She wearin’ that sexy ass J.Lo perfume I got her back in 2002. She know it’s my favorite. Uhhhh yeah.
Uhhhhh yeah. She gonna feel all sort of sensations. My body is smooth, the champagne is nice and hot, and my hair is…luxurious. Uhhhh, yeah.
Uhhhh yeah. You know what I did today? I called up Rent-A-Center, and I said, “My house don’t have no furniture.” I got myself a leather couch. And a vase. And when the delivery man asked me if I was having a party, I grabbed him by the back of the neck, and I said, “Nah…I’m havin’ sex.”
Uhhhhh yeah. I called up Ramon, and I said, “Ramon. I need a favor.” I asked him to take my dog for the night. I can’t let him hear what’s gonna be goin’ on. He’s innocent. I called up the neighbors, and I said, “I’m just warnin’ you…tonight, I’m havin’ sex." Uhhhh yeah.
I went to the salon, and I picked up the Summer 1996 issue of Sophisticate’s Black Hair Styles at the bottom of the magazine pile. I pointed to a picture of a woman with a long beautiful weave, and told the hairdresser, ”Give me that.“ Uhhhh yeah. Just thinkin’ about tonight gave me all sorts of sensations.
Uhhhhh yeah. I went to the mall, into my favorite store: Pampered Passions. I went up to the clerk at the desk and I said, "I want something that says that I’m masculine, yet erotic." I got myself the sexiest–uhhhh, yeah-sexiest piece of men’s lingerie I could find.
Uhhhhhh yeah. That’s the doorbell. I gotta go. Gail’s here. I hope she brought the butter. I told her I needed it for english muffins. I lied.