Philip Jose Farmer

Greasy hand up my skirt, while the other raids my purse; friend, you've proven quite the flirt. Lips part and offer teeth just life a wolf's. My reply, "No thank you, I'm good." Is there any good idea lame assholes won't steal? Not that I've seen. Is there a single thing the frauds won't strip clean? No, not that I've seen. Oil lamp provides light for the camp, but does it scare away the fauna? Are wild beasts ever put to pasture, or is it always-constant struggle? Is there any good idea lame assholes won't steal? Not that I've seen. Is there a single thing the frauds won't strip clean? No, not that I've seen. You thought you'd impress me. Well, you did. I've rarely seen such greed. It's a nest full of a million mouths that are always ready to feed. You treasure the thought that you're cool at all, but it's pastiche at best. You wish you could hold my brain, but I regret to convey, your arms wouldn't reach around my balls.