The 500 club.

Some clubs are harder to join than others.

To join this one on 17th Street I had to:
Sing in a very high voice till my eyes burst.
Name 5 brassicas
Do the thing with that man.
Juggle 3 red hot pokers and a kitten.
Do an impression of Fozzie Bear.
Wash cars for a month with my tongue.

It's so much more enjoyable and fufillng
(and less wearing on the tongue) to become
a member of the 500 blip club.

With love from me to you, you gorgeous, loving and very
kissable beings, with intensely squeezable arses.
From the corner of Guerrero and 17th in San Francisco.

Have a nice day people.