here's some spanking new filthy
for your rotting engagement.
declare variables with intent.
do it with style.
place your parameters in order
and galvanize the flow of insipid rancor.
you know the routine.
dance, baby. dance.
there's no such thing as true love.
it's just a lie perpetrated by the likes of michael bolton
and a clause that is neither clear nor vague.
it just sits, waiting for affirmation.
affirm that thing.
type it up all nice like.
then send it out with a particularly satisfying glass of wine.