Sex? Oh, yes, I love it. And the clarinet.
Time to haul out of Granny's closet this well-worn one (older members, you will have seen this before, so go off and make a cup of cocoa now, and have a digestive biscuit).
Old Hank and Martha are sitting out on the porch of their old Tennessee home, a-rocking in their creaking chairs. They're both slowly sipping their Mint Juleps, looking out at the fine sunset evening. Hank looks fondly across at Martha and asks, "Martha, honey?" He has to repeat it a coupla times before she hears him, and then he goes on, "Martha, do you remember the first time we met?" Martha gazes fondly, if a little unfocussed, back at Hank. "Oh, I sure do, honey, I sure do."
Time passes as the old chairs rock and creak, rock and creak. Hank looks over at Martha again, and stretches out his withered hand and takes hers. "Martha, sweetheart, do you remember our first dance?" Martha nods her head, "Why, yes, I surely do, Hank. I surely do." "We loved that old-fashioned waltz, didn't we, darlin'?" asks Hank, squeezing her hand. "We did, for sure, yup, we sure did, Hank."
A few more rockings and creakings later and, as the sun finally dips and Hank and Martha sip the last of their Juleps, Hank leans across to Martha and smiles, "Martha, honey, do you remember the minuet?"
Martha laughs and gets up to go inside. "Oh, Hank, honey! I cain't even remember the men I ferked!"