3 Dimensional Interactive Movies

a study toward sonnet #282 by FisherKingKQJ


The moment I became a little girl,
The men, besotted began to hit on me;
Sure, I've lost my golden baby curl
But gentlemen still adore what they see.
I'm pre-emptive for the masculine mind,
They're always ready to grope, to pounce-
The law cordons off my boobs and behind-
Girls, the gods gave me this vital ounce.
As much as you might ogle, flirt and flounce,
Though your beauty is diluted by a quart,
Wolfwhistles to me all your angles trounce:
It's my superb hourglass figure they court.
But most of all men call me a frigger,
It's not under fragrant, so go figure.


It's not under fragrant, so go figure.
It's not under fragrant, so go analyse.
It's not under fragrant, so go diagnose.