So the other night I watched “The Bachelor.” And yes, I hated every minute of it, except the commercials.
But there was a kiss! It was a first kiss on a picnic for two. I can’t tell you how happy I was that I was watching on an empty stomach.
Of course the bachelorette in question said it was the best kiss ever. And of course, I wondered, what would she have said if the bachelor was an awful kisser? And how do the show’s producers eliminate bad kissers from the competition?
You don’t hear about it in the news, but I’m here to report on a terrible, secret epidemic in our country: bad kissers.
Those infected with lousy liplocks walk amongst us every day and live their lives without ever knowing they are suffering from one of the following substandard smooching strains: the Gecko, the Saint Bernard, the Clam and the Helicopter.