Thursday, August 30, 2007

A plea from our Moldy Shower....

Oh, why won't you clean me, you man of the house, use your burly strong muscles and scrub me down and out. My tiles are not shiny, I have too much scum, I'm making your wife sneeze after she gets done. I see you and envy, your clean squeaky bodies, as you step out and leave me to be....If only you could see, how much your wife really does care about me, as she longs to stroke brisles along my procelian shell. But the cleaner, as bitter sweet as it is, should stay away from your baby biz, which leaves me with no choice but you. So I love you, you're the man, what else to you want me to say? please clean me so I can sparkle :o)



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