Tuuushi I 'envision' a scene where I meet u in a coffee shop. An out door coffee shop, with crystal white table and spotless glass chairs under an umbrella. I sit there with my petite self, underneath my long brown raincoat -and huge celebrity sun glasses to disguise my over-done eye shadow. In you come-galloping-and stumping. You have no neck. Huge circumference fat neck that made me gallop my glass of water, side décor with a lemon--not believing what I am seeing, I quickly almost chocked with the water. You have no make up on, you have the most cutest short fat hands, and when I stood to shake them--u refused hand physical touch. You looked nervous and almost afraid of the beaming sunshine outside. almost like an a reclusive weirdo, immobile from obesity, and u just stepped out of your flat, --out of a favor for basra-your fav celebrity. We stood for a while, looked at each others eyes, after removing my glasses of course- spoke gently and moderately. OK I did all the talking, u did all the left and right look out. You looked left and right---removed a tiny mirror from your bag---and quickly looked for any thing stuck in your teeth.
Then, you sat down swiftly and abruptly without being asked--and down you went--breaking the exquisite artsy glass chair. Shocked as I was-
-it could not be compared to the cursing, and yelling shock that came from your fat neck deep vocals. You roared like a lion:
"Nacaala--tulaah Aleiq---u tricked me yaaqeee! Sharmuuuuto! Ouch! Ouch! Glass stuck in my futo"
Basra The only refined thing about u is the processed sugar u inhale.
