All the girls have perfect teeth
The floors are spic and span
The toilet bowls do not have germs,
And sex is in demand...
Breasts are held in perfect grace
By those cross-your-heart devices
And the little white flakes in your hair
Belie a major crisis:
The housewives must squeeze every cent
From every single dollar,
And still risk being put to death
For ring around the collar.
And every bottom's perfect
On every sweet young maid:
Oh, Christ, if you get THAT part wrong,
You never will get laid!
Yes all the dishes sparkle,
And every house is neat,
And the dogs and cats can take their pick
Of what they want to eat.
And all the fine young people
Sport those snazzy jeans:
They're shrines to Aphrodite, yes,
They're walking sex machines...
And the married women get their kicks
In the strangest sort of caper:
They go down to that Whipple's Store,
And squeeze the toilet paper!
But can it really be like this?
Can it really BE?
Well you know it's such a let-down:
it's just TV.)
The person behind the pen name CITO writes us that he (it?) is "my alter- ego, the other side of my do-it-yourself Tinkertoy schizophrenia."
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