Yeah, well I’ll see what I can do Chris is away again I want to make the kids something
delicious for when they get back Yeah I’m missing him terribly (Laughing) Oh God no, no I don’t love him that much It just gets so lonely sometimes here by
myself (The doorbell sounds) That’s the door, I must go We’ll catch up soon though yeah? Yeah Coffee
sounds swell All the love (Music playing) (Voice over begins) Poetry is like sex If you’re not feeling it, then it’s redundant And I’ve got a hunger to screw more people Than a Dickensian landlord in London Poetry is the poor woman’s novel but society has done it’s best to render us bankrupt their favorite bitch is one who’s
destitute Who keeps her legs spread whilst covered up She charges by the hour Dirty Pony and she can have all my money Dirty Pony Because when I’m with her I don’t feel so lonely (End of voice over) I’ve never really done anything like
this before This is… my first time (The sound of gay smacking!) First time… reading unadulterated homoerotic feminist poetry Stemming from female desire and a scathing frustration at
being treated like a hysterical orifice first and a human being second? Gosh Isn’t it hot in here? Now come here, you dirty pony (More gay smacking…) (Music playing) (Voice over begins) This courtroom is a fucking strip club Hot without your clothes, even hotter without your voice Oh sure
Your body belongs to you But what happens to you is their choice and you’re hysterical unless agreeable your autonomy always on trial Now turn around, bend over and don’t forget to smile! She charges by the hour Dirty pony and she can have all my money Dirty Pony Because when I’m with her, I
don’t feel so lonely Because when I’m with her I don’t feel so lonely… (End of voice over) Who’s a dirty pony? (Music playing)