I’m finally getting a handle on women. One track minds, all
of them.
Do they want me for my body? No. My boyish charm? No. Do
they want to stroke the sailing ship tattoo on my arm and say ‘Ooh, Jeffrey.
What’s that long thing at the front end, and why is it sticking out so far?’ No.
All they want me for is my words.
I’m very disappointed. And thinking of becoming a monk. I
found some new Father Ted episodes on
YouTube tonight, and the first one I watched had a nun in it. I reckon nuns
have style. And wimples. Whether or not they have legs remains to be
established.
4 comments:
Simple, wimple, pimple... PIMPSY! Yay!
In Tennessee
I knew a flea
Who said 'Y'all come talk to me.'
I have no idea why I wrote that. Maybe I'll finish it one day.
YOu wrote it for the same reason i made my comment, i assume.
Did I? Oh. So anyway,
Just treat me right
Or else I'll bite
And then you'll itch from morn till night
I still don't get the connection with nuns.
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