How To Keep From Sweating Between Your Legs?

“I can go out in my underwear.” His voice was strained, embarrassed. “What the hell do you want me to wear? A tent? I don’t know what else you’ve got but that should cover everything. It will probably be cooler than whatever it is you people are wearing up there on this mountain of yours anyway. What time should I get back down here for supper tonight? Maybe we should have the old lady bring us something from town when she gets off work at four o’clock so I can eat it before bedtime—that way, maybe I won’t sweat so much by morning. Or would that be too much trouble for her? Would you mind if she brought us something? There are some good restaurants in Cripple Creek these days; they even have television sets where they serve your food to you while you watch TV—yours and everyone else’s who comes into the restaurant with a TV set! You wouldn’t believe all those extras that come along with having a television set nowadays! And there’s no need to make any big show about Sunday dinner anymore because everybody in town expects his family members to troop in one after another until he has twenty or thirty relatives crammed into his house eating their way through an entire roast suckling pig . . . How could anyone resist ordering enough for eight people when he discovers how much better things taste when prepared properly by someone else rather than cooking

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