A Blur

A typical bottom, an embarrassing top, a much-needed belt, a pink heart-studded muffin, a saltshaker, you who did not call me, you who reeked of pot, i who reeked, you who is sweet to her but to me allot 20 min, three divas and everyone who wants to go to the Madonna concert. I think I feel typical, I've run into them, I've run into the one I feel I should condemn. It was strange, the energy, its focus kept shifting, from up to down to out to up. The dyke with low-hanging boobs yelled forcefully into his ear until I rescued him and we fled, leaving her with her next victim. Back upstairs, I was the gem of her eyes and I pulled her by the hand and led her down down down. Not so smooth there tonight. I tried to move but it was a little forced, and he'd already left because I irritated him. Then the last man left me standing and I skipped down the street and disappeared into the night.