I Dare you to Tell me The Truth.

I always notice you skurrying away

like some type of trash bin rat

or raccoon

or hamster. Guinea Pigs if they eat aloe and sawgrass.

You eat shredded wheat.

Torture, suffering, diet, consumptions.

Roma or Sparta who knows it’s all Greek to me.

You eat Pasta and Olives’

why should I judge what you use to make the Pasta so Slick + Oily.

It’s da Acid-hit of DavVingegar that is actually – the taste to define the delicacy so.

That’s why I prefer Brine, extra-dirty, in my martini because you think

I gotta have Gin or Vodka

to swig that damn olive juice down like the finest digestive of the Sea.

Of shining hole to nitrogen. Wonderful. I love metamorphisis rock; in the igneous of Hawaii you must watch out for. Bloodsucking mosquito pineapple bums of those painted ones.

What do you mean you’ve never had Thai Tea?

Ah, you left Hawaii in the 80s.

Good choice Kid, I’ll see you in New York again one day.

The Carolinas have held me as an initiate leader for some time now.

What can ya do.

At least I’m not digging for fossils in bear-hare country where the jackalope roam

like crowned death machines of destruction waiting to shred your Achilles tendon for a thrown watermelon-no carrot.

Egads. Those bunnies are not bunnies but rather. Floofy.. misunderstood dangerous creatures with built-in weapons for antler crowns.

I dig that. LexiconLuther does not – he’s jealous quite frankly and he’s gonna get his ecological lick back.

I eat snow like polar bears catching squid in Italy.

He prefers to snort ants into oil with a straw.

I love Duality.