Madam
I would snatch the Gin Gimlet right from the Devil’s hand hisself to toast your gigglin’ wrigglin’ beauty. I would then cry out in pain… because, come to find out, the Devil’s glass is very very hot.
…nonetheless
I would hire Rip Taylor to forever follow you. Lavishing your entrance and exits with celebratory confetti. And if Rip Taylor grew weary I would buy him a Segway scooter & vitamins. Perhaps I would even pay for his hip replacement surgery and subsequent rehabilitation. For lo the sun will never set on the celebration that is your very being. I would fuckstart Reo Speedwagons career and countless other terrible 80’s bands if only just to sing endlessly, of the bliss, that is your interwoven fun sprung ass. I would dig up Elvis Presley and steal his handkerchief, just to mop the sweat from your bodacious ta-ta’s and then I would save said kerchief… and when I sold it on E-bay I wouldn’t even mention Elvis.
My Dear, millions have spanked to your low res, low angle sugar - wasting entire galaxies of future mall walkers in the process. Reflect on all of the happiness you have given. Think of all the delirious flush faced prayers. My wondrous destroyer and giver of life, my final question unto you is thus… are you ever gonna PM me some pussy shots or what?!
