A death bed is a helluva place to think about all the feet you never got to play with. That's why we agree with the poet who offered the advice about gathering all the rosebuds while ye may. The only time a woman's feet are going to smell like that are when they're young and their pristine toes still offer a promise of unparalleled sexual joy. Then a broad gets old and you've got all the corns and bunions from bad fitting shoes to deal with. Get 'em while they're young we say, and he who hesitates is truly lost.
