August 27 - A Guy in a Muscle Shirt Responds Preemptively to an as yet Unuttered Invitation While Drinking a Coors Lite at a Hooters in South Florida

Just so you know, the answer is no.
I am not looking to do a wife swap.
Not interested in joining your little swinger set.
Gonna have to decline the invites to any sort of key parties you might be planning.
Why?
Exhibit A: My wife.
Exhibit B: Your wife.
Case closed.
Seriously, no offense, but look at my wife.
OK?
Take it easy, partner. I didn't say stare.
OK, now look at yours.
Any questions?
Do you honestly think I'm looking to share this with anybody? You'd better think again, especially when, um, that--your wife--is what what I'd be getting in return. It's like, Hey yeah, I know. I'll just cook up a bunch of $50 a pound filet mignon and bring it to your little potluck dinner where I can trade it in for some hamburger casserole. Maybe while I'm at it, I can let you take my Trans am out for a spin while I jump start your little piece of shit Chevette and see if I can get it around the block before it conks out on me.
Sorry, man. Just being honest.
Seriously, mi hermano, have you seen my wife? Of course you have. Hustler? July 1997? Ring any bells? You probably haven't seen her naked since then (except in your dreams, bitch), but I can put any doubts you may have to rest. Yes. She's still got it. Oh my God, has she still got it.
Not that your wife doesn't. She's still got it, too. Problem is she's got it and then some. In fact, she could stand to lose a good chunk of it, chunk being the operative word. What is she, trying out for the Bucaneers? Tell you what: You can keep your defensive tackle and I'll hold on to my cheerleader. That sound like a deal to you?
I mean, in case you were gonna ask.
Anyway, you ready for another Silver Bullet? Come on, I'm buying!