B.C. Stands for Bone Chicks

The worst thing about being a television repairman stuck in1,000 B.C. isn’t a “hard” time finding work- it’s how chafed my wiener gets from doing it on saber-toothed tiger rugs. Today is no different.
“Where’s the Television?” I ask, my member throbbing. Then the cavewoman says “Television’? But that hasn’t been invented yet!”
I’m “hard”ly surprised.
“Well, why’d you call me?” I say, Then she says “I need to lay some cable” which can only mean two things, and I don’t think she’s talking about taking a shit.
“It sure is hot here in the Pleistocene era”, I remark casually, “Mind if I take my pants off?” She begins raising her eyebrows several times to indicate that she sure doesn’t.
“You sure are one fine piece of homo erectus” she says with a smile, to which I reply “You got the erectus part right, cavebaby” then whip off my pants, stride forward, and the fucking begins.
Her breasts are like pterodactyl eggs, white and luminous with cracks because life is extraordinarily difficult in this time period.

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