people started to look a bit: dumb-found
   making it into a pose,
or at least gracing the need
to pose...
maybe both at the same time?
it really was all ***** at an aerosmith concert...
start looking at *****, given a large
enough crowd, start imitating *****...
ugh... so crowded... claustrophobia reinvented...
i'd like to mind that fact...
lodging a pair of testicles
where a crown might reside,
tickling them, or should i say:
doing doing-doing tango
with my tongue, i.e. tickling them?
  hey! the gay joke! all the ladies waiting...
you sorta want to give them a chance perspective...
but then sorta withhold on giving them one...
    that's the way you say:
i kinda like beta-male
masochism... just makes sense
after a while.
    moaned & groaned, started living off
the taxpayer...
              thus came fame:
and the rollercoaster...
                   and it was all
well cushioned thereafter...
  like it might do: after a funeral...
just after in the west
they called parenthood a job...
that's when i gave up...
they they called it a job i was like:
let's just watch disney cartoons...
to minder-status me be beckoned!
just somebody with a ***-savvy
   free approach...
              i can't be bothered putting
that much effort in, when a panda
or a koala stages a necessity of
bamboo or eukalpitus leaves (merely)...
  can't, be, *******, bothered.
no, really, the argument is not working,
that natioal brigade concerning
Darwin is worse than the Poles with Chopin...
    i like him playing the piano,
not doing a makeover on my skeleton...
   it's bugging me, it's actually horrifying me...
i'm not afraid of alpha males...
am i contesting? should i?
    i rather enjoyed squash courts
mid-week, and lifting weights...
       now i'm asked to make some sort of resorts
for an upkeep?
   i can't be bothered...
i really can't...
  i have not impetus to keep the biological crown,
i have no need to keep d.n.a.
like it might stretch into genealogy...
i have absolutely no dire need to reproduce...
all those arguments can, sorta drown in
phlegm...
                i literally have no need for a
motivation coach...
                    you want to keep the argument:
you keep it!
              do all the ******* that the argument
deserves for it to be kept!
i can't be bothered...
  i really can't.... call it Mandarin or call it
Mongol... i call it mammoth mohican...
i'm saying: bye bye: and **** me,
aren't i the 'appy chappy un.
              so i'm also ****-phillic in terms of music,
music, yes, music that sounded better
than a woman in onomatopoeia mode
imitating a ******* cello.
   i just like what's pleasing to the ear:
'cos' i'm deaf my dear!
    i ain't blind, all i can see is a big fat
lipstick approved O...
               that will never be a Mozart,
and will never be AC / DC...
      you're no music baby,
and i'm not really into dinosaur history
to keep us alive, or, that said: absolutely
necessary...
              there's no perfect with a perfection
still involved...
     i say we were perfect: once upon a time,
when we're actually gone.
no, sure, go ahead,
   convince me with yet another
20 centuries (later)...
      i'm not convinced enough....
    or how i like to say:
it was pointlessly said nonetheway...
             i couldn't make sense
of it being a hearing loss or turning blind...
but thinking it out was just the cause
to sorta blink... and then turn into a Judas
on an icon canvas:
     with my head turning on an axis
  akin to a roulette;
and that,
                   ever, eternal... gamble:
was i, wasn't i (speaking the truth)?