A bit of fiction
A woman came up to me today. She was *very* pretty.
"What's minute is it?" she inquired.
I was perplexed.
Perplexed with this most peculiar request, I replied. "It's almost 1."
"No what *minute* is it?" she insisted.
"It's 53 minutes past the hour, Why?" I replied.
She was dismayed.
"Crap."
And she vanished in a puff.
Shame. She was *very* pretty.
"What's minute is it?" she inquired.
I was perplexed.
Perplexed with this most peculiar request, I replied. "It's almost 1."
"No what *minute* is it?" she insisted.
"It's 53 minutes past the hour, Why?" I replied.
She was dismayed.
"Crap."
And she vanished in a puff.
Shame. She was *very* pretty.