American Ride by Toby Keith with Lyrics

Fox Biddable (26)

   
   "Fox Biddable (26)"
   
   Jenny McGee was sitting at Healing Eagle's picnic table, alongside the shamanistic Cherokee, spilling her stinky beans on how Clovis was becoming an extraordinary ordeal of sorts.  Healing Eagle reminded her that the mongoose man had been battling venomous vipers his entire life, dealing with the deviled deck of dastardly demons, and that she had no "tuned in" clues on his feelings of guilt; moreover, he told her to be patient, accept the mutated, weak, strong, whatever--offering the consideration of consolation and cool calm, for it's not easy to endure a lifetime of crusty contagion.
   Jenny McGee agreed.  Just give the guy some Viagra, by way of sneaking it into some Kool-Aid; next, he'll drink it, lay the pipe, and get used to the art of a long love-making lounge in her warm and burning embrace.  
   But Healing Eagle also reminded, sensing her foxy tactics:  "Do not push or trick this man.  Just offer body language, as you are the fox and he is the mongoose; next, he will dance with you, and never give a man a gun unless he can dance.  Intercourse is not a sport, but play between two beings that love each other, in a sincere fashion--nothing more; nothing less."  

Fox Biddable (25)

   
   "Fox Biddable (25)"
   
   Clovis Bloom willingly broke down in front of Jenny McGee as she attempted to put her tongue in his mouth @ the Sonic, retreating by way of a phobic-fueled desire to inspect her oral cavity for overgrowth of fungi; specifically, examine her tongue for a thrush like phenomena; next, prescribe her active cultures and live-action garlic to chew, followed by white tea gelled with mint leaves and freshly ground cloves.
   "Clovis--I'm not gonna bite you."  She stated sweetly.
   Clovis' facial expression flared into a blush from beyond, him freakishly protesting:  "Oh my gosh--you're gonna attempt to give me oral sex--that could lead to your chili dog's bacterial content being inserted through my urethra, making me have to walk around with a wheelbarrow for weeks."
   Like a frozen grump, Jenny sat back in her seat, folded her arms as would an angry child, blew her hair out of her face, or attempted to, forgetting the near buzz cut; then, she said:  "Clovis--this may not work out."
   He was sanitizing his mouth with the inside of his t-shirt, and blurted:  "You're telling me sister; you're an animal."  

Fox Biddable (24)

   
    "Fox Biddable (24)"
   
   Healing Eagle was puffing away on his homegrown, neuroprotective tobacco, outside of the bowling alley, meditating upon the strong pitch of a Blue Jay's cunning tactics, and making Socratic observations upon the braggadocious bravado of a female Roman, wet behind her monkey ears, shouting, being high on Charlie Sheen:  "Yeehaw!  I got me a college education!  Yeehaw!  I got me a college education!  Yeehaw!  I'm as good as a doctor!  Went to a Bush League school, but I shave my hamster panties, being into infantile luminosity.  And I've given my brother a wet willy with my vainglorious vibrator--it's from the country, I pester with a ponder, of Africa, being jet black, and absorbs the negativity of not being able to fly Von Braun's velocity."
   Healing Eagle looked skywards, to Grandfather, knowing her father-in-law had been chased by three guys, cowardly flying home in an anxious panic, as that is his wife's woeful way, and his derelict Dad was laying a Lincoln Log in the receiving commode; next, a big, raunchy yet super-symmetrical poop made by grumpy grayskull, dumped from a cooter's caveman-like intestinal tract, rubbing his retreating rectum, within the foundation of the new, pseudo-suburban home he bought, and he never forgets the salacious smell, but takes it deep into his prostate's hesitation, while Homer Simpson works "you know where" and the eternally-fluxing flow of mundane monkeys, thinking more than a banana pugnaciously peeled out of indisputable urgency, but not, only to have chronic concern over eating Big Top Bozo peanuts from the 1970's festive carnival, when big elephants buried their own dead for the first time, and Chief Mojo Rising sees all.  

Fox Biddable (23)

   
   "Fox Biddable (23)"
   
   Jenny McGee and Clovis Bloom were in Jenny's economically-inclined Honda, for Clovis couldn't handle the responsibility of driving an automobile due to the perpetuity of ringing in the ears, as if he was picking up the higher frequencies concerning the supernatural; also, they were parked at a SONIC, in the Nashville neon of night, her eating a chili dog--and NO, this did not carnally arouse him; moreover, he brought his own bottled water; plus, innocently chewed gum after a session of heavy hand sanitization; then, the conversation sparked after Jenny let out a bullfrog burp.

JENNY
Scuze me--that went down a little rough.  And she blushed a bit, remembering to focus on her fox, fitting in with stealthy camouflage; however, she felt so much liberty around Clovis.

CLOVIS
No biggie.  I'm busy anyway, smelling the resonation of your chili beans.

JENNY
Are you gonna puke or something?  Serious concern on her face.

CLOVIS
No.  I'm focusing my mind, putting it inside the 1980's novel, Lando Calrissian and the Mindharp of Sharu.  My Dad bought it for me in 1983, and I'm way too old to be Disney Star Wars, knowing the original film company wanted Chewbacca to wear pants.

JENNY
You're a nerd--but I like it, for you're a mongoose too.  Swell counterpoise you got going.

CLOVIS
It's part of my charm.

JENNY
Wanna make out?

CLOVIS
You wouldn't happen to have any Listerine, would you?

   Jenny's garnet green eyes sparkled with both curiosity and amazement--it was all good.  

Fox Biddable (22)

   
   "Fox Biddable (22)"
   
   Clovis Bloom was back in the shrink's office, doing it non-Freudian style, sitting face to face with the introspective physician.  The twosome then ignited the therapeutic talk.  
  
SHRINK
So, what's been going on Clovis?

CLOVIS
Well, I've figured out some of my phobias concerning the drama of why I haven't engaged in intercourse yet, but I'll save that for another time.  Right now--I'd like to talk about algebra.

SHRINK
Algebra?

CLOVIS
Yup--I didn't know what the hell was going on in high school algebra.  I was so confused.  Numbers and letters next to each other make no sense to me.  So, my Dad got me this tutor, but all he did was chew ice in my ear and call me George; next, my high school teacher told me I could either get my act in line, or go home and watch All My Children.

SHRINK
What did you do?

CLOVIS
I went home and watched All My Children.  Hell, I tried for years to get it, with everything I had--it was just so ambiguous to me.  Nobody knows how hard I tried.  So, I became my own pedagogue, reading Shakespeare, who might actually be Sir Francis Bacon, and while no student is above his teacher, I now ponder if I'm above myself or not.  And buffet food creeps me out.  Never eat from anything that has a sneeze guard, for a sneeze can travel twenty feet, wending its way faster than light speed, and full of creepy cooties.

SHRINK
I'm gonna up your anti-psychotics.  You may develop some twitching.

CLOVIS
G-r-e-a-t . . .

Cranberries Zombie ( lyrics )