There was a Time when the Six-pack I was carrying was actually attached to Me,
When I entered the Room,
The Daughters of Aphrodite would Scream,
"Break Out the Knee-pads, and Bring me My Chapstick!"
Now they Turn Away,
Uninterested in this Loathsome Lothario,
Who Lives Through Iron,
Down, down like Blistering Phaeton I Fall,
Like the last Hair on my Head,
Like the Last Crap from my Dog.
Indebted to best-selling poet Billy Corgan.
And your mama.