Cartel life? Please. You're not a boss-you're the punchline.
Locked up? The only cell you're in is your own stupidity.
You whine about being targets, but you'd take the fall
for CIA crimes just to keep your ass comfy.
MKUltra didn't break you-you signed up to host for
a bigger player too scared to swim upstream.
Not everyone drowns in undertows, but you? You're determined
to sink with every dumb decision.
Playing cartel now? Why? You think you're a badass?
Taking 360 years for a murder you didn't do
isn't justice or "turning tables"-it's just you being a pawn.
You're better off with Drew Lynch as your GPS.
Turn around! You're not smart, just rolling deep to hide
your lack of brains. Cartels target nobody and everybody-just
like you: all bluster, zero backbone.
When the CIA brought in a fake cartel hitman for NY-CA,
I thought, "If he's a cartel hitman, cool, who's he trying to be?"
But a CIA mole set him up-no way! I felt violated;
standards suddenly went up, down, and all around.
About being a hoe-I thought it was my choice.
Small town, broke, I owned it. But when
my body finally told me the truth, I realized,
wow, that's actually kinda nice of you. Then you
Xis came and ruined it! WTF!
And let's be real: women run more of the show now.
Guadalupe "La Patrona" ran billion-dollar ops, outsmarted rivals,
and even helped put El Chapo away.
Enedina Arellano Félix, "La Jefa," turned Tijuana Cartel
from bloodbaths to business deals-less violence, more profits.
She used accounting skills, built alliances, and kept it low-key,
proving brains beat bullets in the long run.
Women like them aren't sidekicks-they're the bosses, the brains,
the ones making real moves while you're stuck playing tough.
Meanwhile, consent isn't a two-for-one coupon, and
selling yourself short just means you're a rookie in
the aisles, not a cartel queen. You're so lost,
even Siri's asking, "Are n Siri us RN!?"
Drew Lynch said, "Turn around!" but you sold your own ace.
You think you're the main player, but you're just
background noise in your own story.
You fold faster than Drew's punchlines, bluffing so bad
even AI's got receipts. Keep playing tough, but you're
just another fail in the highlight reel. Maybe next time,
let the grown-ups drive. Until then, keep wondering why
the GPS keeps saying, "Recalculating."
PS: T Stop and T Hug Sit Down
Verse 1
OMG, like, the Gambino girls
Are mixing White Claws with pearls
Yakuza sisters in pink,
Bratva boys can't even think
Sinaloa sisters can't smuggle
A pizza past the house mom's juggle
Triads run a bake sale,
But launder the cookie dough, fail!
Chorus
We're the Alpha Beta Kappas,
Mobsters in mascara,
Cartel queens in Lilly prints,
Throwing shade and throwing hints
Gambino girls "whack" their GPA,
Bratva bros pull hammies every day
Yakuza boys' tattoos?
All temporary, nothing new!
Verse 2
Triad twins on TikTok,
Sinaloa snaps in the hall,
Cosa Nostra at the mixer,
But nobody remembers it all
Medellin's idea of a hit?
Dropping the aux at formal, that's it
Genovese girls run rackets,
But only for tennis brackets!
Roast Verse
Whose bright idea was it,
To stop putting drugs in the drugs?
Now our parties are just LaCroix,
And awkward shrugs and chugs
The only thing thugs really are?
They thug it out through way too many snugs,
Like, literally, they can't detach,
Squeezing tight in a cuddle match!
Pledge week's a trauma marathon,
Mixer disasters every week,
Daddy's money runs the show,
But can't buy cool or mystique
We fake philanthropy for clout,
Pretend to care, then ghost,
And every time we "study,"
It's just gossip and a toast.
So here's to Greek life legends,
With secrets, scandals, shrugs-
But next time, let's remember
To put the drugs in the drugs!
Bridge
The only "cartel" we run
Is group Uber rides for fun
"Making you an offer you can't refuse"-
Just a Venmo request for booze
Our "front" is the lemonade stand,
During philanthropy week, oh so bland
The "underboss" forgot his laundry,
Now he's just feeling all groggy!
Chorus
We're the Alpha Beta Kappas,
Mobsters in mascara,
Cartel queens in Lilly prints,
Throwing shade and throwing hints
Cosa Nostra can't keep a secret,
Unless it's the WiFi, don't leak it!
Medellin's big heist tonight?
Just sneaking snacks in the fridge light!
Outro
From Medellin to Genovese,
We're extra, wild, and loud,
Sorority girls and mafia names,
Forever basic and proud!
New Jokes:
These cartel guys talk tough, but at pledge week,
they fold faster than a fitted sheet at grandma's.
The only "muscle" they flex is trying to open a White Claw,
and even then, they ask the Triad twins for help.
Bratva bros call it "going on the lam,"
but really, they just ghost the group chat after losing flip cup.
are u a😀 t hug gurr 2!? No need to sue – I'm just a copyright dude,
Making parody moves in the Disney mood!
Ariel:
Look at my stash, isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my cartel's elite?
Wouldn't you think I'm the queen,
The queen with the sneakiest scheme?
Fake Louis bags, White Claws on ice,
Who cares if my product's been stepped on twice?
You want real drugs? Sorry, just spice!
We're not princesses in castles high,
But we're not broke or just sitting high;
Our stash is all label, no thrill-
It's a hustle, a scam, but I'm chasing it still!
Ursula:
Oh, darling Ariel, you wanna be tough?
Let Auntie Ursula show you how to get rough.
First, in this game, you sell each other for cash,
Then whine and complain when your man checks my ass!
You think you're a queen, but you're playing pretend-
Real power means making deals that never end.
If a CIA hitman shows up for a hit,
Just laugh and say, "Honey, you ain't slick!"
In this world, you gotta own your game,
Don't just swim with the current-set it aflame.
Ariel:
But what about King Triton-King Try Again?
Always pinning the blame, driving me insane.
He wrecked my grotto, called me naïve,
But turns out this "witch" is nicer than he'd believe!
Ursula:
Triton talks big, but he's scared of the tide-
Pins and blames, but he's got things to hide.
He's the king of "try again," but never gets through,
And guess what, darling?
This "bitch" is nicer than you!
Ariel & Ursula (together):
We're not princesses in castles high,
But we're not broke or just sitting high;
We run our world with a wink and a grin,
And in this cartel sea, it's the fiercest who win!
Ursula:
Now, Ariel, let's show that king who's boss-
Make him sing or pay the cost!
Ariel:
Yeah! King Try Again, it's your time to shine,
Sing us a song or step in line!
(They laugh and snap their fingers as the music swells.)
Ursula (tag):
So if Disney's listening, don't get mad or rude-
Here's the headquarters link, I'm just a copyright dude!
Headquarters:
The Walt Disney Company
500 South Buena Vista Street
Burbank, CA 91521-0001
Phone: (818) 560-1000
[thewaltdisneycompany.com/contact-us/]: https://thewaltdisneycompany.com/contact-us/
hey parrents and ppjs ...all like wtf is wrong with tjis bitch and y cant i say shes nit rightor rt!? i think we convwrtin to THe ET A!
#pta
#mocktails
Mock trial skit, with the parents being "questioned" about drugs, then flipping into over-the-top "thug" personas and joking about sharing. This keeps it playful and satirical, highlighting the absurdity of parental double standards.
Mock Trial Skit: "The Parents Are On Trial" (Drug Interrogation Scene)
Scene: Cross-Examination – The Drug Question
Judge (Kid 1):
Next case: "The Mystery of the Missing Gummy Bears... and Other Substances."
Prosecutor, proceed.
Prosecutor (Kid 2):
Parents, you always act shocked when you find out kids know about drugs by first grade. But you also act like you know everything.
So, under oath:
Have you ever done drugs?
Parent 1 (squirming, then suddenly acting tough):
Yeah, maybe I have. What of it?
Parent 2 (leaning in, "thug" style):
And if you kids can get access to all these drugs by first grade,
(slaps the table)
why don't you share with us, huh?
Back in my day, we had to walk uphill both ways just to get a Tylenol!
Parent 1 (playing along):
You're holding out on us! You got the hookup?
I see how it is. All this talk about "sharing is caring," but when it comes to snacks or... other stuff, suddenly it's "find your own, Mom!"
Sibling (deadpan):
So you want us to share our... "resources" now?
Parent 2 (winking):
Hey, if you're running a pharmacy out of your backpack, at least give your old man the family discount!
Parent 1 (mock whisper):
And don't think we didn't notice the "special brownies" at last year's bake sale.
(pauses, then both parents break character and laugh)
Judge (Kid 1):
Order! Order!
So, to summarize:
When it comes to drugs, parents want to act shocked, act tough, and apparently, act like they want in on the action.
Prosecutor (Kid 2, shaking head):
And you wonder why we get confused about the rules.
(Optional Musical Tag)
All (singing, playful):
"If you're gonna judge, at least be fair,
Don't act shocked, then ask us to share!
Let's talk it out, let's keep it real,
No double standards, that's the deal!"
This scene lets the parents go full "thug" for comic effect, poking fun at generational hypocrisy and the way adults sometimes act like they're above it all-until they want in! It keeps the tone light and self-aware, perfect for a family or school comedy skit.
### **Chapter 7: Card Sharks in a Fishy Business**
The neon lights of Tijuana flickered like broken promises, casting shadows over dreams that danced just out of reach. In this vibrant, chaotic city, Ariel strutted down Avenida Revolución, her colorful hair bouncing with each confident sway of her hips, a beacon for those who dared to venture into her domain.
"Welcome to the cartel, baby!" she squealed, waving a plastic bag filled with slightly crushed sugar packets. Her true merchandise? Playtime candy—no prison time needed, just a quick sugar rush for a quarter!
Across the street, Ursula leaned against a streetlamp, an embodiment of survival with a hardened exterior and knowing smile. She had navigated this twisted world long enough to understand the game, crafting moves that left opponents bewildered.
"Ariel," Ursula called, her voice smooth like the tequila sold in brown paper bags. "You're going to want to stash that sugar in the vault, sweetheart. This isn't Wonderland; it's a war zone."
Ariel turned, her grin freezing at Ursula's warning. "Come on, Ursula! This is a cartel! We don't need fancy labels! Look at me—I got charm and pizzazz!"
"Charm and pizzazz won't save your ass if you attract the wrong attention," Ursula chided, stepping closer, her burgundy lips curling. "You think you're a player, but you're still learning the difference between high stakes and high fives."
"Wow, Auntie Ursula, so wise! Who needs wisdom when I've got sparkle?" Ariel chirped, masking her ambition beneath a facade of innocence.
"Diving into the deep end without floaties, huh?" Ursula smirked. "Let me tell you, little fish; some currents will drag you down before you even realize it. Not all who swim are qualified, and in this ocean, the high tide carries the secrets."
"Secrets?" Ariel arched an eyebrow playfully. "Sweetheart, my life is an open book! Chapter one: naive girl chases dreams in a real-life Disney Channel hell."
Ursula chuckled knowingly. "Yeah? Until you find out some fairytales are dark as hell, and the princess has to dance with the devil to get her happily ever after. You need to own your territory before challenging the kings and queens of this world."
"Maybe," Ariel said, a thoughtful look washing over her painted facade, "but I still want to prove I'm more than just… a joke. Can't I at least be seen?"
Ursula's eyes flickered with empathy. "It's not enough to be seen, darling. You need to be heard. Want to be a player? Start by playing smart. Understand who's pulling the strings before auditioning for the lead role."
"Okay, boss lady, I hear you." Ariel crossed her arms defiantly, her mind racing with visions of glory. "But what can I do besides selling sugar? Maybe I can pivot, adapt like the sharks?"
"Baby, you're more like a guppy at a fish fry," Ursula teased, flicking her hair with confidence. "But if you want to swim with the big fish, learn the tide and let go of the fantasy. Start small, but remember: make waves, don't just swim!"
"Make waves, huh?" Ariel stepped back, a renewed confidence knitting into her ambition. "Alright, Auntie Ursula. Let's make some waves! My name will echo through these streets, and before you know it, I'll be reigning supreme!"
"Reigning supreme?" Ursula laughed, her voice echoing through the chaotic streets. "Sweetheart, it takes more than aiming for the crown; you've got to deal with the fallout of every mistake. Trust me, there will be mistakes—you just have to recover faster than the last punchline."
With a determined nod, Ariel took a deep breath. "So, what's the plan? Start with a bodega takeover or work the underground markets?"
A sly smile curved Ursula's mouth as she stepped closer. "First, we need to set the stage. A bait and switch never hurt anyone, right?"
"And we'll make our grand entrance as the phantom queens of the night!" Ariel exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sounds like a laugh."
"Just remember, Ariel," Ursula said, her tone turning serious. "No one warns you about the price of a laugh, especially in this game. You may be the punchline if you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Now, given those odds," Ariel replied, smirking with renewed determination, "I might just take my chances. Who knows? It could be a better story than I ever imagined. If I'm going to fall flat, it might as well be on my own terms."
"Now that's the spirit!" Ursula said, extending her hand with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Let's dive in!"
Together, they walked into the pulsing heart of the city, two wild souls plotting chaos in the shadows of corrupt dreams. For Ariel, it was no longer about being a punchline; it was about rewriting the narrative—turning folly into fierce ambition, ignorance into schooled toughness. But as night fell, one couldn't help but wonder: would those waves she aimed to make lead her to glory or to the depths of an ocean far darker than she could ever have anticipated? The tides of Tijuana had their own way of teaching lessons—whether you were ready or not.
---
**🎶 Musical Interlude: A Parody Twist 🎶**
Ariel:
"Look at my stash, isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my cartel's elite?
Wouldn't you think I'm the queen,
The queen with the sneakiest scheme?"
Ursula:
"Oh, darling Ariel, you wanna be tough?
Let Auntie Ursula show you how to get rough.
In this game, you sell each other for cash,
Then whine and complain when your man checks my ass!"
**(They laugh and snap their fingers as the music swells.)**
---
With that, Ariel and Ursula set off on their wild adventure, navigating the treacherous waters of Tijuana's underbelly, ready to make their mark—or their escape—whichever came first.
#loyalty or #roya m ty s ur e niece dint ma tt er o not urs too bad she migjt be gra dma n you would t know sinve u sold het R
So, you picked the CIA over your own family-congrats on joining the world's most dysfunctional reality show, just in time for the season finale: "Mass Layoffs and Musical Chairs." You thought you were signing up for top-secret glory, but turns out you're just another extra in a spy drama where half the cast is getting written off and the only thing covert is your job security.
The CIA? Please. They act like they're roaring lions, but really, they're those singed kitty cats from Sweet Home Alabama-all puffed up, barely meowing, and running from their own shadows. Their idea of "purview" is erasing the truth so well, even they can't remember what's real anymore. If there's an ERT for assholes, they're leading the charge-setting up everyone else to take the fall, charging us pay-per-view to watch them fumble, and then acting surprised when the audience boos.
Meanwhile, I was the one leaving bait behind-because unlike you, I actually gave a damn about protecting our family. While you were busy playing secret agent and covering your own ass, I was the dirt under her shoe-ignored, overlooked, but holding everything together. Like Joe Dirt says, "Things are gonna happen for me!" Even if I'm just the gritty little piece nobody wants to notice.
And let's not forget your "holiday" for $850, courtesy of the NATO swirl budget-legally laundered through cartel gun money. I mean, with that kind of paperwork, I can't tell if I'm supposed to be on vacation or testifying before Congress. Proving, once and for all, that they've been "stronging" the Carmel-sorry, Caramel-cartel this whole time. Sticky business, huh?
Everyone says, "Hey Brandy, Bye Felicia." Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you started that trend-dismissing people before it was cool. But the sad thing is, I don't even know who you are anymore. My sister, my friend, you used to stand for something. Now you're just a shadow, lost in a maze of secrets and cover-ups.
And here's the real kicker: today is your niece's birthday. I actually have a heart and a heartbeat, and I'm pissed that you're too much of a coward to admit what you did to me. Maybe it's time to stop covering for the CIA's mess and start covering for your own family. Be the person you always pretended to be.
And by the way, I was the pup-you were Pal. You were also his Genie, but now you're free. You're welcome. Sometimes the real magic is letting go, setting each other free, and realizing who was really holding the leash all along.
It's just too bad that the song we sang about loyalty and forever turned out to be complete b*******. But maybe I forgot the words on purpose-because for once, I didn't want to wonder why it hurts so much to remember them.
So, what's it going to be? Keep playing the CIA's fool, or finally show up for the people who actually matter? Because when the smoke clears, the only thing left standing won't be your cover story-it'll be the truth you've been running from, and the family you left behind.car tel LM ey e s guys this is great pr!
Verse 1
OMG, like, the Gambino girls
Are mixing White Claws with pearls
Yakuza sisters in pink,
Bratva boys can't even think
Sinaloa sisters can't smuggle
A pizza past the house mom's juggle
Triads run a bake sale,
But launder the cookie dough, fail!
Chorus
We're the Alpha Beta Kappas,
Mobsters in mascara,
Cartel queens in Lilly prints,
Throwing shade and throwing hints
Gambino girls "whack" their GPA,
Bratva bros pull hammies every day
Yakuza boys' tattoos?
All temporary, nothing new!
Verse 2
Triad twins on TikTok,
Sinaloa snaps in the hall,
Cosa Nostra at the mixer,
But nobody remembers it all
Medellin's idea of a hit?
Dropping the aux at formal, that's it
Genovese girls run rackets,
But only for tennis brackets!
Roast Verse
Whose bright idea was it,
To stop putting drugs in the drugs?
Now our parties are just LaCroix,
And awkward shrugs and chugs
The only thing thugs really are?
They thug it out through way too many snugs,
Like, literally, they can't detach,
Squeezing tight in a cuddle match!
Pledge week's a trauma marathon,
Mixer disasters every week,
Daddy's money runs the show,
But can't buy cool or mystique
We fake philanthropy for clout,
Pretend to care, then ghost,
And every time we "study,"
It's just gossip and a toast.
So here's to Greek life legends,
With secrets, scandals, shrugs-
But next time, let's remember
To put the drugs in the drugs!
Bridge
The only "cartel" we run
Is group Uber rides for fun
"Making you an offer you can't refuse"-
Just a Venmo request for booze
Our "front" is the lemonade stand,
During philanthropy week, oh so bland
The "underboss" forgot his laundry,
Now he's just feeling all groggy!
Chorus
We're the Alpha Beta Kappas,
Mobsters in mascara,
Cartel queens in Lilly prints,
Throwing shade and throwing hints
Cosa Nostra can't keep a secret,
Unless it's the WiFi, don't leak it!
Medellin's big heist tonight?
Just sneaking snacks in the fridge light!
Outro
From Medellin to Genovese,
We're extra, wild, and loud,
Sorority girls and mafia names,
Forever basic and proud!
You can always tell when a man's being a b**** and it's that time of the month-
he suddenly thinks he's you, but let's be real:
he can't be a b**** and a dick at the same time without actually having one.
Men get all moody, act like they invented attitude,
and then wonder why nobody's giving them a medal for multitasking.
Sorry fellas, just because you can't bleed for a week and survive
doesn't mean you get to act like you invented drama.
Their PMS stands for "Privileged Man Syndrome"-
and the only cramps they get are when their team loses
or the WiFi goes down.
So next time he's stomping around acting like the world's ending,
just hand him a chocolate bar, tell him to take a nap,
and remind him: you can't out-b**** the original,
and you definitely can't be both a b**** and a dick
without the proper equipment-
that's a vagina, not a p****-toed wannabe!
So the next time Elon Musk claims to be a man,
remind my mom it's not really her in there-
it's just her third eye watching him,
because he couldn't get to her this time.
She's got more eyes on him than a spider in a surveillance van!
And if she could just get back to her brain
and remember she can't actually leave her own butthole,
that would be amazing-because honestly,
I'd like to like her eventually!
Welcome to the White House, where the only thing more divided
than Congress is Monica Lewinsky's thighs-talk about bipartisan separation!
The only thing Monica Lewinsky and a vending machine have
in common? They both say: "Insert Bill here."
Monica started on her knees-and look where that got her.
Guess sometimes you gotta stand up to change the game!
Speaking of Bill Clinton, he was the only president to
get "in the black"-which sounds great, right? Except here's the twist:
the red is the black, the black is the red,
and it all depends if your starting point matches the rest!
So basically, he's the only one who didn't do his job... ironically.
The White House: where politics, scandals, and punchlines come together
like a late-night comedy special that nobody asked for!Everyone says Elon Musk is a genius-rockets, cars, social media-
but when it comes to privacy rights, he thinks he has the right
to everyone's privates. Maybe that's why he bought Twitter-
he thought "X" marked the spot!
He can silence people's right to speak, but when it comes
to getting things to actually work, well-let's just say
his rockets aren't the only things that have trouble launching!
And let's be honest: when your ex-wife's an actress,
has zero social media, and is a complete ghost online,
it's probably because Elon's making sure she can't be heard-
not just seen.
It's ironic Elon Musk and Trump are such buddies-Trump acts
like he's got a little boy crush on Elon just because he plays with rockets.
But the only thing actually benefiting from their friendship
is good TV-two egos, one reality show, and a lot of airtime.
Trump's not Orphan Annie, but with those Daddy Issues,
he's got more in common with Daddy Warbucks than he thinks.
Maybe if Warbucks and Trump stopped stroking their egos,
checked their brain cells, and quit whispering to their billionaire buddies,
they'd finally see the CIA's got their ear-
and maybe, just maybe, get over their crap and check the video feed
before another pie hits their face.
Elon and Trump: proof you can reach for the stars,
miss the point, and still end up on primetime!Wouldn't it be hilarious if every "crazy person"
in the mental hospital was actually right?
They say "the government's in my head"
and doctors nod, writing "paranoid delusions" on charts.
Meanwhile, the microwave auditory effect sits
in declassified documents, scientifically proven.
"They don't have that much control!"
people say, sipping coffee,
while electromagnetic pulses literally make sounds
inside human skulls without speakers.
The real joke? When science confirms
what patients claimed for decades,
we still call them crazy
and the torturers collect paychecks.
Funny how "conspiracy theory"
becomes "classified program" becomes "old news"
faster than you can say "MKUltra."
Leave it to my ex-husband-the one who looks like a
combo of Beavis and Butt-Head turned human-to kick
me out of my kids' lives just because I divorced him.
Now he's married to her, but she's mad at me, not him,
for a divorce he can't stop whining about! Honestly, if
anything, she should be mad at him for holding a grudge
longer than our marriage lasted. At this point, the only
thing they're committed to is blaming me for their own
drama-and with his Beavis-Butt-Head energy, it's no
wonder the plot's stuck on reruns. He's basically living
in Cornholio mode, running around clueless, yelling for
TP for his bunghole, and never making any sense!
Absolutely! Here's your extended roast parody with Jeff Foxworthy's website and contact info attached at the end:
(To the tune of "Circle of Life" with a Jeff Foxworthy twist)
Nants ingonyama bagithi Baba…
(Here comes a government worker, Father…)
From the day you arrive on the planet,
And blinking step into the line,
If you wake up and your government says you're dead,
But you still gotta pay that fine-
You might be a redneck ghost if the IRS still finds you,
Even though your neighbor can't see you at all.
It's the circle of life,
And the rules don't stop,
If your name's on a list,
You're still getting that call!
Chorus:
It's the circle of life,
Where you're stuck in the system,
Invisible citizen,
But you still gotta sign!
If you're following laws that nobody can see,
But the DMV wants your license renewed,
Here's your sign!
Some say eat or be eaten,
Some say live and let live,
But if you're dead on paper and still get jury duty,
You might want to ask who's keeping the books.
If you're waiting four years for help,
While everyone says, "Not my place, not my job,"
Maybe humanity's out to lunch,
And you're just haunting the halls.
Chorus:
It's the circle of life,
And it moves us all,
Through despair and hope,
Through faith and love,
Till we find our place-
On the path unwinding,
In the circle,
The circle of life!
So if you wake up invisible,
But your bills keep coming,
And the government says, "Keep following the rules,"
Just remember-
If nobody's helping,
And you're still on the hook,
Here's your sign:
You're living the bureaucratic afterlife!
For more Jeff Foxworthy laughs and wisdom, check out his official website: jefffoxworthy.com
Or contact him at: [email protected]
Let me know if you want it formatted differently!
Everyone says, "It's not my place, not my job to help."
So whose job is it to be a human being, then?
If someone's asking for help, but you don't want to ruffle feathers,
are you waiting for the "Official Empathy Department" to clock in?
Four years later, still no one's shown up-
maybe humanity's on an extended lunch break!
Hey thugs, you can act all big and bad,
but let's be real-you've been had since day one.
Who's been running your moves? Oh right, the government!
You take the fall, sit in the cell,
while they meditate, play with their third eye,
and maybe even their own set of boobs.
Now you're stuck hugging yourself,
acting like a bunch of boobs,
and yet here you sit, silent as Tape Face-
makes sense, since the only thing getting exercised
is your right to remain awkward.
Meanwhile, you're the Lady in Red-
standing out, thinking you're mysterious,
but really, everyone's just wondering
if you're lost or waiting for a slow dance.
All eyes on you, but the only thing you're stealing
is the spotlight from Tape Face and the thugs
still trying to look tough in the corner.
Next time, just take the sacrificed hug-
it's less embarrassing than pretending to be a badass
while you're stuck in invisible handcuffs!
Hey thugs, before you start your next shady ritual,
can I volunteer as a "sacrificed hug" instead?
I promise, I'm soft, squishy, and way less messy
than whatever you've got planned.
Let's trade the knife for a nice group embrace-
I'll even bring snacks!