3 Dimensional Interactive Movies

sonnet #1,645

I whipped his arse the one quick beach towel flick,
And got him back for his rough chinese burn;
He shot my shins an under bench quick kick
For dropping ice cubes down his back, poor return.
We laughed and cringed upon each trick and tic
Far, far, too long, when he'd so much to learn,
We fiddled gender frisson, didn't click,
Let juvenile delinquencies adjourn.
The humble water cooler, water jug
And teapot hold as my informants' hub,
His foibles, sayings and schedules form the nub
Of girl chat I wedge him in, he the mug.
Which old chick is the dozy boy pursuing?
And what's the news and what's he up and doing?

(Chorus)

o pursuing
o chasing
o hunting