I hope for a new pair of jeans.

This is to say that I hope.

Whether tis nobler to,

wait,

no,

I forgot what that means.

But as i began,

I wish for some denims,

some warm blue things to cover my legs.

fore in fact,

I am partial to blue.

honestly why make the others?

Those mangy and slimy neon fools.

Feigning a true mans bottom wear.

And let me tell you,

it is the men,

Those honest hardworking men.

Who prefer not just a collar of blue.

If I might stray a bit from this play,

I really must say,

Socks are a wonderful thing.

But I must not strain too much,

Because I have my demands,

and met they will be,

or so I hope.

My jeans should not be loose,

nor prone to remove circulation,

but must rest,

at about my mid chest,

so my suspenders may not be so long.

Suspenders make smiles.

And smiles are made by Colgate.

but that is not the issue here,

I really hope for a new pair of blue jeans.

There are a few things that you must know.

Cola is Cancerous,

Speakers are loud,

Games are not fun,

Clocks tell smell,

ears tend to fart,

Giraffes are short,

blankets are cold,

PB&J's are awesome,

plates are spherical,

and books are high on carbohydrates,

And,

I really want a pair of blue jeans.

obviously you know which is the important.

The Jeans better not lack butt pockets,

although,

when i travel to Paris,

as a tourist that is,

I'd rather live with my wallet,

not being in my back pocket,

So that some Jean jealous kid,

might act out upon me,

because of my wonderful leg wear.

In terms of all leg wear,

the worst is obvious,

I know who is the bad pants epitome,

none other than Liberace.

but don't get me wrong,

I like the guy,

But revealing is not what i want.

My jeans should have bottomless pockets,

So that I can look dumb when I loose my car keys,

In my own pocket.

Also such things would allow storage,

of many things,

such as hand grenades,

mortars,

bazookas and candy.

Don't worry though,

I'm licensed for each and every one.

of my twelve cars.

All those cars have butt warming seats.

making those rides with nothing to do,

turn into a contest,

to see when the first cheek will turn blue,

on my face that is.

Because there really is nothing made to warm your cheeks.

Except those reliable cold hands.

I hope to invent a cheek warmer,

and you know what I'll call it?

I know the tension is building.

The name took me years to develope,

but now i think it is ready to be revealed.

I shall call my glorious device,

The cheek warmer.

and disclaimer,

"Use with facial cheeks only."

But to get all the facts straight,

And to know what I want,

Or rather what I hope to get.

You must understand the following:

Q-tips are cool,

Glass is neat,

Hair is prickly,

school is boring,

telecommunication is the epitome of the modern world,

but it's just under my hope for a pair of blue jeans.

you know what?

I don't care,

Digression is fun.

but now I must go to where i begun.

In these blue jeans,

that i hope to get,

another few requirements must be met.

Disregard belt loops,

who needs them?

I told you I'm wearing suspenders.

Rather make them ten times pre shrunk,

the painful possibility of shrinking jeans in my dryer would be plainly too much for my weak sole to bear.

If not equipped with full kevlar,

I don't want the filthy pants,

I don't want to die from the things in my pocket,

So why not equip them with a tank while you're at it?

If these jeans,

that I hope to get,

Are anything short of having AM reception,

They are as good as dirt.

For particularly sunny days,

they might have retractable solar panels,

to power the built in refrigerator.

If that is not possible,

so be it,

what ever,

Just gimme some blue jeans,

I just hope for them whenever.