I arrive hearts in hand. All my stomaches are hungry, all my senses in syndication, all my hearts hearses, all my oats horses, all my horses houses, all my omens are mothers, all their children are telling me jokes, the way little children tell you jokes, too shaggy dog my narrator is creasing her eyebrows, she says huh wah?
Did you see the Onion headline: "Man who likes to move it, move it still looking for perfect song." Jenny likes.
I like to move it, move it.