I pick my nose
With all my fingers
And all my toes.

I sniff a rose:
The aroma lingers:
I pick my nose.

Calcium grows
My thingamajingers
And all my toes.

A horseshoe throws
A bunch of ringers:
I pick my nose.

The north wind blows
A flock of wingers
And all my toes.

A sewer sews
With several Singers:
I pick my nose
And all my toes.

Nibble Her Neck,
and She'll curl up Her Nose.
Massage Her Feet
and She'll curl up Her Toes.
Tickle Her Earlobes
and She'll Moan your Name.
Whisper Her Cow Girl
and She'll ride on your Frame.
Tweak Her Rosebuds
and She'll give out a Moan.
Kiss Her Lips,
and She'll slurp on your Cone.
Bite Her Toes
and She'll wriggle Her Waist.
Trickles of sweet Honey,
is all yours to Taste.

How I wished to count your fingers,

Your tiny toes,

How I wished to kiss your darling little nose,

How I wish to breathe in your scent,

You beautiful little child,

A God sent,

How I wish to whisper your name,

Your fingers round mine,

How I wished to tickle your feet,

And hear your laughter,

How divine.

First find someone you enjoy *** with.
Spoiler alert it might be yourself.

Second, absence is a bit of a relief.
Minor irritations are glue like.

Third is roughness. It's a spectrum.
Don't be afraid of it and don't be cruel.

Forth and most important is humour.
What does Charles Dickens keep in his spice rack?
The best of thymes, the worst of thymes.

So there you have it.
Life is easy.
Eat pickles as often as you can.

Dip my feet-
In a bag full of coffee beans;
To get the feeling of-
The ground in between my toes.