On a sweltering afternoon, Mike and I walked to the convenience store for an ice cream bar.
He stops, yanks on his shorts and shakes his leg. "My junk is sticking to my leg."
"Boxer-briefs, Mikey. That's the way to go."
"I normally do wear boxer-briefs, but it's laundry day and all I have are my flaming heart boxers."
"Aww. Mikey has a heart-on."
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