- Robert Plant: Hey hey mama, said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove!
- Jimmy Page's Guitar: tunanuh-neanuh-nEAwneaw, tanehnanenanununrreaneaw, tunineh-tuneh-tunahnEAWnEaw!
The other day I was at Victoria’s Secret, claiming my free hip hugger panties and $10 off bra. I jumped around the store from shelf to shelf, display to display, and drawer to drawer in search for the bra I’d like to purchase at a reduced price. “Should I get the one that makes me look like a sugar plum fairy, a steam-punk seductress, or Mrs. Robinson?” Sooo much variety! I was a mess. My arms draped in braziers o’ plenty as I sifted through every drawer in search for my new favourite booby-holder. As I traveled from one end of the store to the other, I managed to trip over myself (I guess that’s what you get when you wear heels to the mall) and my wallet escaped my grip. When it hit the ground, the clasp popped open and gift cards, ticket stubs… and my pack of birth control exploded on the Victoria Secret floor. I scurried along and picked up my wallet’s contents as fast as possible. After shoving everything back into its proper compartment, something on the ground caught my attention. Little white rounds sprinkled the black carpet. “Oh shit…” By now, I had a decent amount of attention on me. A whore-ish sight to see: pack of contraceptive in my hand and a flabbergasted look upon my face as I stared at the plethora of assumed pills on the floor. Forgetting the fact that most birth control comes in individual packages, I got onto my knees to pick of the “pills” with A etched into all of them… Oh, they were Altoids.