We’re getting giggly at the Dverse bar tonight. I’ve always thought of my toes as missle toes
since they shoot off in all directions, that sounded like a good road to hoe. I didn’t put in a picture, didn’t want to gross you out.
Giggly, wiggely, piggeldy toes,
Stare back from the covers at me.
A pinkely, winkeldy, piddy tree grows;
Like missle toes shot in a spree.
Yet were my tootselie wootselies true,
Not just a wandering round;
I’d be footloosely fancily free,
Not just a face-plant on the ground!