To make me a chess set, and instead he sanky wanky me poe poetry to the bottom of bearded rock quarry pines. And me's a pining for me sweat poems. All tittered and flittered and wetty. And look there's that nude bean dancing away, across the way, mooning me in a tiff. Why sir do you punish me for no other reason than offering you my kind hand? Are you looking for attention and love? Do you want someone to say "I love you, you old veiny assed babboon? Well here goes, "I love you, you cross eyed turtle fucker, I really do, and for christmas this year I'm going to mail you sumpin special. An empty dryer box full of starving El Salvadorian children saying Hola Crampa! Feliz Navidad". And then maybe we can change that lump of coal in your chest into a rosey pine nut.