You now clap on demand, young miss, especially after a few rounds of “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” And when you drink your bottle, you lounge as if you’re reading The New York Post with a farm-boy fanning you, one leg crossed…
Tell Me More
not a euphemism
the line outside the velvet ropes of the wiggle room
catfish toes and steak fingers
i’m in love
is it porch drunk if it’s not from a mason jar?
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