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B is for The Master Card

The pretty girl makes a man go further. See her. Want her. Must to have her.
What to do? Step up your game? No. Go buy yourself some shoes.

Rugged as every man should be. earth tones hold together the stitch that grips every piece of leather. Or… combed thread dyed blue with white or pink laces just to have you in her good graces. The size of the shoe… will make her want you.

The pretty girl makes a man go further. See her. Want her. Must to have her.
What to do? Open her eyes to hidden truths and philosophies? No. Just buy more tees.

One without a logo obvious. Grey blue stripes with accompanying sleeves pulled up to reveal the white swatch watch that tells both time and date. Must not be late. Must not tempt fate when the future of coitus is so near us. Yes please… I’ll take the tees.

The pretty girl makes a man go further. See her. Want her. Must to have her.
What to do? Lift yourself to a state of godishness? No. Charge $400 to marinate in foolishness.

Cause spirit didn’t prepare you and science failed you.
So why trust the pheromone? Needs meet the cologne.
Embrace the elixir, the one shaped like a cigar and whose smell isn’t too far from it.
For there is no limit to you love. 
The plastic is a sign from above that forgives us our debts and humbles our debtors.
As we continue this façade, blessings be the Master Card.

The pretty girl makes a man….

The Master Card 
Tracy J H
© 10:04:11


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