Peering at a cutie in leather booties, resting on a tree that’s done its duty.
Glancing back, pondering the shark track, missing Kevin O’Leary, out the tank comes the hat.
Around her neck goes a jaded wrap, resting on a tree she brought down with many whacks.
Veil in her lap, she’s taunting this tree, her rear end is licking its sap.
Talk about a new term for being called an ‘old sap’, this tree was 80 years her senior
and the tree wished her ass was a bit more cleaner - how could this tree be any more meaner…