A quivering boob

Everywhere I turn I spy a quivering boob. All shook up, and teasing me. Alas, I've proclaimed to most that I was too intelligent, and evolved a man to fall victim to the sheer power of a quivering boob Look at me now. Plastic surgeon taxidermist wearing women's underwear Lipsticking it to the world stuffing and fluffing. More than just something for that wall with the glossy flopping plaqued crappie My creations inspire conversations, baby. For guests with snuffers and warm brandy Swingers swishing with a belly full of mullet and tight kneed lesbian wives all a glow Staring at my collection of rare quivering boobs. Denied the milk nipple as a child of the indigenous prostitute's flock. I found myself in a cave kneading an Aplha-lupe's cock. High on wolf cum I thought less of cunt and cunts and smegma and stupid fucking whores selling sincerity in lingerie and cheap perfume whispering of your future children and a life in the Burb's while blowing anyone else that will listen if ever, god forbid, you deccide to not pay attention to the weep of her baby shooter and go to work one short warm mourne. I have bad news for you I don't like women Only quivering boobs surgically removed. I have bad news for you I don't like women Especially you.