"All social customs are shared hallucinoses aka: social psychoses" (Wilfred Bion)
She's my girl! With that moustache, who knows what's between her legs? But she's no prig, that's for sure, and isn't that worth something → in our present age of Woke LGBQWERTYism? She's been around, and she knows what's what, and what's not what it says it is. Finders keepers; losers weepers. She's my girl, or something. Long live Rrose Selavy!
Aside: In making this page, I (BMcC) did a Google search on "Rrose Selavy" and found it means: Eros (aka: physical love / sexuality) is life. I had not figured that out before. In perp school I never was adept at finding the hidden meanings in poems for the teaches which they already knew but just wanted to humiliate me about me not being able to find them when they could have just mimeographed and distributed it all and been done with themselves because that was the only trick they could pull out of their underpants. They could have stopped causing me trouble and just ate their own genitals for lunch if they had any, and then have proceeded on to eating the rest of themselves for class, starting with their mouths and eyeballs. If they had no sense organs they could not have done target acquisition to meddle with and mess up things; if they had no mouths there would have been no lip out of them. Instead of soccer balls, the faculty could have had a new body contact field sport: Kick the teach: Each time a player arced a carcass (or even just its head) into the dumpster they'd score one point. The game would end when all the garbage had been properly disposed of, and then everybody would win. C'est la vie.