Friday

A bedizened cross

 A bedizened old cunt on the cross of her self pity.A tawdry bat and a beak like hell. Shimmy to her lake side pelt! O walker O ruiner . finker of the things that ought to be taken care of. Flame thrower! O pizzicato! its this pizzle you're fretting you fool. There's no drama that way, a goat won't keep that long. Won't you wait for the chicken soup?

______________ Hold that thought.  Okay. Then?   she requires a mirror a minnow and lamp and the old gang risible rushing off to join the gang. It's there she's at least her worst self. If you'd care to call it that. 

A mighty good god calls her name.A festoon lightens the party. There's ridges, capes, coves,  all kinda thing standing out it's even freezing at times. But they're naked as thought. Her self  a measuring dish to every con.


Shes got five bucks a plate and moving fast. A real rodeo gal.