Yes, this is when Aaron White met Miss Canada. (99/00, I believe) I'm
the one on the right with the creepy smile. That's because Miss Canada's
left hand was resting precariously close to the right hemisphere of my
bum. Despite the winter gear being extremely thick and chalk full of
Special K sample packs, I could yet feel the tenacious grip of her
roming fingers. If it was firm young bottocks they sought, Miss Canada's
hands were certainly looking in the right place. "Not today, Miss
Canada," I thought, "I'm not that kind of guy. Try connecting with my
mind, and maybe then you can have my body." Until then, I'm sure
there'll be other Miss Canadas.