| Nothing heats up my jacuzzi like when
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| this used thong I found and bedazzled with gems
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| brushes ever so gently against some boobs.
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| I guess it’s hard to believe that one man
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| could have a ponytail this sensitive and
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| distract an aggressive hawk that’s cornered you.
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| I know my haiku’s are freaking intense
|
| but even the words I made up to sound French
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| don’t express my feelings for your toilet parts.
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| I would show up for our pottery class
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| dressed like a pirate with John Water’s mustache
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| On a unicorn that shits your name in stars.
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| Fuckings cool, but Jimmy’s the romantic type.
|
| Loitering on cliffs, thinking about stuff like,
|
| Screwing you on the beach at night.
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| One milkshake, two straws.
|
| Fuckings cool, but Jimmy’s the romantic type.
|
| Loitering on cliffs, thinking about stuff like,
|
| Screwing you on the beach at night.
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| Don’t I (Don't I)
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| Sound so (Sound so)
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| Sexy (Sexy)
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| Echo (Echo.)
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| Release the doves! |