"How I get the ladies and them some": The Kram3r biography
Chapter One: My name is Kram3r, stranger.
It's night time here, in ol' Sydney town. It's a peaceful night -- a peaceful Saturday night. the city is alive with people my age "getting it on" and "sipping back a few" and "giving oral sex" and "barfing on the side walk for the city council cleaners to wash off Sunday morning". Yes, Sydney is a fine woman with breasts like a pregnant Grizzly Bear lactating ever so quietly in the woods. So, the question begs at my feet and yours, fine readers. Why am I here? Well, that's a good question, and one I assume that will be answered in due time.
See, I'm what they call a man. Now, as a man, I have a fine coat of hair that extends from my head to my face to give me a rich, full look. A look that says "Hey, you're alright." and you know what? I am. Oh, but the hair doesn't stop here. The hair grows. It grows around my belly button, where once my mother fed me. The diet wasn't too good, but I admired the hospitality. I also have hair around my genitals, probably not the most ideal place to grow as it covers the full view of my penis but, when I shave, boy am I surprised. It's like mowing the lawn and finding that football that gave you your first touchdown -- Magnificent.
Ever smoked a cigarette? A cigar? Some weed? Or perhaps for those in lower income districts, a crack pipe? Well not me, no. No sir, I'm a clean man. In this game, you've got to keep your wits about you. If you don't, you'll die, and frankly, I don't want to be six feet under with Nonna Dentice who once embarrassed me by wearing her old Ballet outfit. That's a true story. That woman had hands like a Ox. One tug and she could rip your arm off. What I guess I'm trying to express is that, be live O' citizens of New Earth! That saying will ring ever true as I reveal more.
Bravo mate, real fine piece of true blue, fair dinkum, pour me a cold one and tell me a story aussie litrerature this is. Intelectual and deep, like the stuff I write, and find written on the back of my uni toilet stall walls. Food for thought, and thought for growth.
Write more, get it published, I willl even pay for a copy.