An Ode To My Shorts
Eat my shorts! Eat them! Chew the cotton, it hasn't been washed! Can you taste my holiness? My shorts contain wonders, even when I'm not wearing them. They are a being unto themselves, glorious in khaki, zippered, buttoned and self-aware.
Eat them now! You salivate and deny yourself, why? My shorts desire to be eaten, masticated into pulp, digested, shat out and be made into shorts again.
Or perhaps my shorts should devour you?
M. PotPie
posted by Monkeypotpie @ 10:12 AM
4 Comments:
I'm staying the hell away from those shorts.
indy- but...they love you.
chicken- mission accomplished!
Um...that is something I am tasting, but "holiness" is not a word I would use to describe it.
Ambrosia, perhaps?
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