"where's yr horse?"

yr obviously talking about my boots
but yr looking at my chest-
you might as well have said
where's yr boyfriend.

what, you wanna be my horse, old man?

fuck off, i smile, and keep on strutting
i dont need a horse or a hat or
a pathetic ole man's approval.

---

in other news, the grass is lookin pretty green for me right now.

real post soon- my adventures at the dentist.