On my head. Not the chicken pox scars created fresh from ancient
scratch, but the pinkish colored mound (speed bump?) located somewhat off-axis,
just where my part could be parted if I wanted a Republican haircut. The thing
that blinds Google Maps from their satellite view of my upper cranial region. Or
does it protect the rest of my body lightening’ rod’ like from the radiation
emitted from
Fukushima? Anyway, when you control me there, with your touch - that is where I know that you know that I like
it when you like me and are relaxed and comfortable enough to comfort me while
we watch some show (your show) about a very attractive White House consultant - consulting a
President in the sweet spots all over the White House...
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