You can't fool me. you dream of drinking champagne on even taller buildings than what Indiana can offer, Or the pathetic Sub Orange county existence of SanDiego's elite charity ballers. You hang out with minorities, and assume that will help you obtain entrance into heaven. You are only as Christian as the material used to make your pink ultra slim tampon inserter. You dream of money and power and Johnny Depp in Cry baby. You swallow to make up for your lack of baby feeders. You are nice to old people, but could never picture yourself being one. Without finding true love. Can you save the baby bird that toppled out of its nest? No. Can you help your parents die happy and old? Or will you park them in a drooler home, and move on to better things. You worry about being accepted for more than just a cute litle daddy's girl. You want respect, but sucking off the boys basketball team is not the high road to China. Or that movie short cut. And it always gets back to the town pastor and the coach. The school nurse has a condom variety travel pack with your name on it. Daddy's shiny whistle Blows! Daddy's shiny whistle Blows! Bringing to your braceless mouth (now that they are off) Moby's pretty Dick, but you can call me Richard the III. I am the baddest boy. I put the sting in lemons. Just ask those two stupid niggers in the movies, Martin and Will. And they will tell you I am as bad and black as Florida State. I am the Albino alligator. You are a rotting compost heap incubating my good red eye. You, sweetheart are a professional bullet biter and it shows and tells for the whole class.