The Moo-Moo Effect
I dare say to omit the details of this morning, but only to hint at such an impropriety.
Spore has planted his legend on my hips and other similar regional areas.
I stand there in my closet and wonder what has happened.
The cat’s tail blows in the wind and the bells chime in the breeze.
So this is life’s evolution?
I look at this fitted dress and that flowing piece and utter, “Oy!”
I sit on the bed and pet the dog and wonder what to do.
The birds sing and the sun shines on us.
And I wonder what to do.
Scandalous as it may be, I am tempted to parade down the street in my undergarments.
Isn’t it only natural to disgust the entire neighborhood,
Especially when you feel so yourself?
This is it, there is no other choice, but to embrace the bohemian look.
It’s fine when you have nothing to hide, but now, it’s not much fun!
My dear little Spore, I am content to wear a moo-moo for you,
But I warn you, I will remind you of these days.
This is the moo-moo effect on your mother.
You have turned her into a true heffer.