The Cow And I

Hey, I'm not King yet, nor do I claim to be. That would be premature, especially in consideration of how many tricks you might still harbor somewhere up inside your shirt, ripening deep within your fetid armpit.

And so, as presumptive to the throne, I am free to sow some oats. Invite you up to "Club H" as it were, sunbathe topless on a beach, or go puku-hunting in wildest africa. It's practically a requirement. Why even our own sort of temporary king, the almighty W, partied a wee tiny itsy-witsy bit.

And so, it does not stand to reason that the sprightly and impish dauphin would make a despotic king.

Of course, there is always louis-seize, and pol pot, and, come to think of it, W himself, to contradict my argument...

So I guess we'll just have to wait and see. But one thing's for sure: when I am King, it's gonna be a golden age. For me, anyhow.

I'd settle for tin.

I feel I should also add that, married as I am to an anti-royalist brit, and snubbed as I was by the sultan himself, and having never been allowed the opportunity to sleep with Miss Downs, I might not find the same force of character in your chosen examples as one less involved in their lives might.

Thanks for playing, try again, please.