Huddle up, fellas, I'm about to (open my mouth)
Huddle up, sons, "that's what I was born to do"

Contemplate this game:

"When I hear a tiny boy articulating clearly I feel distaste; it offends my ear and seems to have a slavish ring about it. But when one hears a grown man stammering or sees him playing like a child it is ridiculous and he deserves a whipping for his unmanly behavior."

Don't Socrates/Plato really glow your charcoals, dear testosteroned literary Caucasians? If you're not down with the Classical, perhaps you'll dig what I like to think of as our Absolute Form. By god, he's a genius. If only we all could hit-and-run with such confidence. I fear the Feminists among us have got us by the berries. Why we hardly ever get published anymore! let alone hold ranks together. Men! load those pipes and Reason how to best drive forth.

Ideas? Inseminate my comment boxes
("that's what I was born to do")

As I await your tidy-white responses, I'll be fondling, groping and dick-wagging Absolute Truth. I am a little giddy about it. Also about scoping the ladies tonight at SPT. O, Bernadette! don't forget your hot pants.


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