NurSie Powers ENGAGE!!!

Twas the night B4 the fashion show and all through the house, my freakin' Siamese were stirring trying to get a rotisserie chicken carcass out of the garbage as if it were a mouse. The next thing that happened as I drifted off listening to my wife talk, was a vision of the runway and how I should walk. Then crept into my thoughts of my part in the ballet, is that how I should walk and break forth with minimal delay?
Are dreams created on a part of anxiety and stress? or are they just powerful thoughts put together in an organized mess?...
Be it that or just another, Freud would say it is your mother, but in truth back to the story as if there was no other.
A fashion show to where proceeds go to breast cancer research, and a first for me I felt a little bit like Lurch. Enough here now as this redundancy of rhyme, rhyme in its redundancy is taking too much time...
So as I was saying my wife, and my child, and also I, were in a fashion show to save nursies, I tell you no lie.
No more rhymes now, I mean it, ...anybody want a peanut...

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh................

So I exhibited a sweatshirt designed by Jeans by Jai,  spray and splatter painted in a Jack Pollock way.
A black bandanna was worn accross my brow, a style that was worn in past years, but history now.
A walk and a swagger revisiting a thug kind of appeal, an image, or life style that rarely is real.
Just as the show was, not that of real life, but ....fun? I guess...but mostly I did it for the wife.