Ripeness is All

(...of cunt, and pussy hair.)

In my mind's eye I see wreckage of ships on the sidewalks and angelic hosts with polished forks and knives poised about your ball-sack. There's no privacy, to be sure, and neither is there any comfort: there is only an opaque Emergency, in the shape of a woman's ripe body. My gift to friends will be more like a twinge of fear than one of hope, but it's the same in the end: I say it's the same in the end: I say it's the same in the end.