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An Ode to My Sunglasses With A "$" On Them

Damn, Sunglasses with a "$" on them.

I love you.

You make me look all cool.

You got your sweet faux diamond encrusted $ all displayed proudly on the left lense.

You make me look so bling bling, babies. Blingity bling blang bliiiiiiiiiiiing.

You may have only cost me $6.99, but you is priceless.

Dang blang, Sunglasses with a "$" on them. Look at watcha do to me, babies.

You the damn sweetest Tints I did ever see. I just love it when you sit on my face and block out the harsh rays coming from that bitch the Sun.

You make me want to slap asses as they jiggle in a dancing fashion. Not painful slaps, just playful ones. Like, they'd make more of a "Platty plat" sound instead of a "KPLAT KPLAT" sound. That's the kind of slapping you make me want to do.

I love to wear you as I cruise low rider style down Guadalupe. My Jensen Cassette Player blasting the hip tunes of Dolly Parton and Handsome Boy Modeling School. I love how the sun gets captured in your sweet faux ice and glimmer in a fashion that says, "Damn. We is some nice shades."

When I pull up at Sonic and I order some Pickle-Os and then the Pickle-Os come but the requested Ranch is not given, you give me the extra push to press that button and say, "Damn Baby. Where's my fucking Ranch for dipping purposes. Skate your ass on out here and hook my Pickle-O's up."

You make eating Pickle-O's look oh so fashionable.

I want to wear you inside. I want to wear you in the shower. I want to push you to the middle of my nose and look over the edges in a seductive matter and say something smooth and sexy like, "Hey there cowboy. Need a riiiiide?"

Sunglasses with a "$" on them, you make my pick up lines sexier than they are.

Sunglasses with a "$" on them, you are my boo. You are the only thing I can think to write about right now because you are the only thing that makes me truly happy.

I love you, Sunglasses with a "$" on them. So very much.

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Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy