She says, "Oh baby, just you shut your mouth"
Do you ever have one of those mornings where you wake up fairly early with the intention of getting certain things accomplished, only to waste away nearly all of the time you have before having to go to work listening to David Bowie and Prince, picturing what their bastard love child would look like, and trying to imagine the mighty awesomeness that would be the child's musical ability?
I mean really, a Prince/David Bowie love child could a be superhero, using his gnarly guitar riffs to melt faces, and his quivering hips to send evil villains (read: Mexicans and Muslims) into heart-bursting convulsions of inappropriate proportions. His lustful moans of musical intonation would burst the ear drums of anyone within 50 feet, and his tighter-than-skin pants would cause the bloodflow of desire to rush so violently and passionately that the genitals of all those fortunate to bare witness would be launched across space and time.
Do you ever have one of those mornings?
I mean really, a Prince/David Bowie love child could a be superhero, using his gnarly guitar riffs to melt faces, and his quivering hips to send evil villains (read: Mexicans and Muslims) into heart-bursting convulsions of inappropriate proportions. His lustful moans of musical intonation would burst the ear drums of anyone within 50 feet, and his tighter-than-skin pants would cause the bloodflow of desire to rush so violently and passionately that the genitals of all those fortunate to bare witness would be launched across space and time.
Do you ever have one of those mornings?