Skoo wop doo we dawn bombom.
Yeeep boo wow skee plee boo now.
How does one become more skattish? The process isn't as easy as 1,2,3 or heart surgery! No, it's a series of trials of strength, endurance, and butthole dexterity.
But I'm sure you all know where I'm going with that, and I'm also sure that I'm scrambling for time, dear lordie let me sway down eazay breezay. The rules are so simple Mike's ma could understand them:
1. Be aggressive!
2. Don't put cheese all over your face and pretend you're the moon. We all know you aren't. That got old like 12 years ago. Ya busta!
3. Keep your pants firmly on the ground. They'll only hold ya back!
4. Like... Do somethin' reaaaaal dope... Or whatever
Five ways to seduce your lion, folks, there ya have em. Get nice and toasty up there with em, mmm nice and goodlike. Whenever that lion gets the samelike just hug em tight and squeeze fer life. Oh nah belly boy you're gone git ready fer this nah. Cos cose he gone got youd all up n dried innem them lion fangs. After that all gets settled, you can finally begin the masterful art of slattery, that is, how to make slats (skats).
Not anybody hardly never attempts the feats no mo'. You know the ones. Kinda like dah giraffes and halfway cooler than that ole corner at the pajama party. Partly listless planters paint poorly portioned portraits of princely prawns and pickles. And if that ain't enough! Oh! Bangskeeterbang!
I guess that calls up God.
Damn near skeeted em,
a log
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