the feminine powerlessness of art, and the then again strict rubric of Darwinism's dictatorial regime to talk cool - sieg heil throughout, as a running honk! honk! (joke) on the sly.*
a testimony to high school: don't ever listen to The Smiths or The Cure, or Depeche Mode.... or any of my uncle's **** list... the point being, you can swagger among Eucalyptus trees and feed the frenzy like any Ibiza patron might; cos' there's a koala rummaging your drawers so to speak: due to an episode of king's testicles in the attic - hey presto! a grand piano! hey presto! coronation's fireproof underwear! lovey dubby dub dub, and a coercive test for nibbling on a Maltese ginger... dabbling the fearsome offence... the only school Morrissey attended was nostalgia.