Crab-grass baby:
Stroke me pompadour, pompaduooor, pompaduooor, pompaduooor.
stroke me pompadour, father. stroke it nicely while i tell
you about the problems i am having with my car an my
girlfriend. ooo-wo-woo, the white man's burden!
Her and her girlfriend used to go out and booze it up and
tear up the upholstery; rip the seats completely out, and
so i got a fifty-six olds. about the time i got it running
decently, she got in it and wrecked the trans...tore it
completely up, so i had to get another oldsmobile (either
that or go to tijuana or go to brown moses way down in
egypt-land). it's so hard on a child when his car is fucked
up. buy me a volvo, faaather.
Harry-as-a-boy:
Isn't it terrific, artificial rhonda!
Crab-grass baby:
One-adam-twelve...see the enormous white pompadour!
ha-ha-ha-ho! that's a good one! hoo-hoo-hoo.
Harry-as-a-boy:
He's so young, and yet, so wise!
Crab-grass baby:
I pooped my pants, pooped my pants, pooped my pants! i went
doody, faaather, sob-sob-sob-sob-sob.
Harry-as-a-boy:
His vocabulary is astonishing!
Crab-grass baby:
So what if you suck a little cock every once in a while?
Harry-as-a-boy:
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