Miles Davis is our intern. I've known him for about a year through mutual friends. Miles Davis has been christened so due to his love for jazz. No, he isn't 60. Yes, he does like jazz. Do not knock it till you've tried it. I've tried it, so I'm allowed to knock it as often as my evil heart desires.
Poor Miles Davis. He just told me the story of when he committed girl suicide. Miles Davis knows of this blog. Yet he still voluntarily told me the story. Ergo, Miles Davis voluntarily committed internet suicide. Eurekaisms is merely his suicide weapon of choice.
Miles Davis' story goes as follows. One night, he is in the company of a willing young woman. In such a situation, I believe most boys would shut up and take what they can get.
But no, not our Miles Davis. Our Miles Davis likes everything to be a certain way. Much like a 60 year old in fact. It must be all that jazz.
Our Miles Davis likes it when the girl he is about to enjoy is wearing matching undies. On the night in question, the girl was not wearing matching underwear. She was, however, willing.
Matching underwear v. Willing. Hmm, I wonder which should win out.
Miles Davis looks at her and comments – in his mind – oh so smoothly, "Why is it that girls find it so hard to match their underwear?"
Insert awkward silence with crickets chirping here.
She does not find this amusing. Miles Davis digs himself into an ever-deeper hole by wildly talking in his attempt to save the situation.
From this moment on, Miles Davis will now be known as Undertaker.
He dug and dug.
But he did not get any that night.
Let us have a moment of silence in honour of what could have been, and in Miles Davis' memory.
... Mmmffff, snort!
Sorry, I couldn't stay quiet that long.
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