How you fillin tonight babies? Lonely? Yeah baby - I understands all that -
waking up next to that empty pillow, your feets all cold, the stankiness of yo
breath the only thing in yo mouth. Let the T-man kiss and lick that dried drool
off yo pretty faces! You got needs baby - don't be frightened o them. Just
squeeze your butt cheeks together and say - Yes - I deserve some lovin tonight -
T-Man- T-Man - He's My Man - If He Can't Do It, No One Can....
Some o you babies out there just may be confused about who I is. I'm just a man
babies - a man on a mission to spread his Love. An to prove my charitable
inventions - I's sending this call for T-Man lovin out to all you senior
Citizens out there... that's right, all you babies born pryor to the year of
our Lord 1970 - line yo walkers up, coz T-man wants to put some Social back in
yo Security!
You old babys - be age-in like some fine Malt liquor - the older you getz the
cheaper too - pretty soon ma main man Abdul will be puttin yo azzes on the
bottom shelf with that red sticker on - sayin Buy me fo a dolla thirty-nine.Not
the T-Man - he ain't gonna treat you like that - he gonna put you high up on
the pedestal o love baby - all the better to see the paradise you been hiding
up yo skirts. Baby - i'll slap the dust off that for you.
Come on - you babies who were tongue dancing disco-style in the back of a movie
theatre when the Empire Struck Back - Old enough to touch yourself to Shaft?
Well... time marches on Baby - and luckily - there be a few kind hearted mens
out there who be willing to get all Mother Theresa on ya, and give you some
sweet lovin. Yeah baby I got yo 401k right here, and it is waiting to depozit
itself all over you fine honeys!
I knowz you be scared - your body changin so quickly - seeing your nipples
start to points to yo knees, all the mens be wondering why your butt gott
enough grooves dat if it were a record you could be spinnin' all o Ludwig Van
Beetoften. Babies - I can be your Ode to Joy!
Mes Femmes - you do not have much time left, even the most beautifuul flowers
wither an die (why I always buy plastic). So, take off them dentures, brace
your walker againts the wall, and let ma hands be all the wonder-bra your
gravity-stricken boobies need!
So whip out the clairol ladies, dye your particulars, and write me an email -
and let me remind you of your yutes.
Much love to you all,
T-MAN
P.S. MoMMa this don't mean you!
Also, T-Man can't be held responsible for any cardiovascular complications
which may arise in you grannies when he fills you with his potent passion!