I had some people over last night.

There was a small collection of my decent friends mixed in with the hoi polloi that should be kept away from polite society.
These charlatans befouled my soiree with topics such as:

-Introductions with the stunningly gauche "Who are you?"
-Discussions of the occurance, length and severity of menstrual flow.
-Descriptions of what looks like urination, and what does not.

Once again, the evening had to be saved by T-Unit, and his culinary expertise.
Luckily he brought jam, and the conversations of jam that would not be out of place in Savoir magazine. Do not let the visor fool you, he is High Society.

I was smart enough to bring Kerplunk, the thinking man's Jenga.
And "vAginas" defeated "little Boys" in Taboo. I contended the game should be completed under protest, because women folk have psychoempathic zones in their frontal lobes that help them more than the way that men carry an extra cognitive center in their reproductive member.