For Rich: Dr Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Arse
Dag y'all I never understood black why the jocks get the fly girls & me I get the hood rats......
Frittering in a record store today I heard the above in 2 Many DJs form, which cued your stage-right into my head, which kaleidoscoped in turn to compose a memory here in its original image form of:
And there had I a moment of convulsive mirth, just a torso seizing soundlessly afore bemused rows of showtunes. It was good, I hope you are too.
As is evident to the highly trained eye, I was singularly unsuccessful in obtaining an actual photograph of a San Pellegrino Gassosa bottle, so I hope my rendering of a mid-lopped phallus on whose scrotum someone (presumably the lopper) has scrawled "Gassosa", masquerading as said bottle, might suffice.
Convulse with me now, o resplendent frappuccino-gobber.......
Thankyou, my tone-lowering muscles have been well flexed for the day.