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T0p D0g Reloaded

Sunday, October 15, 2006

...on the dance floor

Mr Dance has been dancing his life for confirmation. This need, along with his power of seduction, was floating tonight in the soup on the dance floor, where the main ingredient was perspiration. Oddly enough, the confirmation was coming now when he was, by all standing standards, old and rugged. An old fart, he was only thirty something. When a fresh chicken he's been known on more than one occasion to have secretly suffered for not getting the spot light. However, Mr D was dancing away, been given more than he could carry. Life was kissing him on his cheeks; life was cheeky. The dancing is difficult.

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