by Matthew Sanborn Smith
No sir, things are going great. My mouths are the lives of the party, I tell you. I can smooch two ladies at the same time. Who wouldn't want some of that?
I can eat twice as fast. Of course, you want to coordinate that chew. I can't tell you how many times my mother yelled at me when I was a wee and I'd shovel her gravy-laden chow into one maw just to have it plop out the other. I'd retire to my corner and suck both thumbs. It's all controlled now. Only happens at family gatherings, my version of the breathalizer. When half of my shirt is covered in beer, it's time to stop drinking.
I can whistle in harmony with myself. Same for kazooing and harmonicazing. I can sing while enjoying a juicy stick of gum. Yes, I know the juice is really just my spit, but did you ever stop to think that makes my gums twice as juicy? A-HA!
You think you're special? Let's see you put your hand through your face. Without bleeding, I mean. Yeah, yeah, screw your petty arguments. Twice the floss and twice the paste, twice the dental bills and twice the gingivitis. Try twice the smiles. Sixty-four shining, blinding pearlies. Two times the cheeses. Look at all those people taking my picture! I look twice as happy as you ever could. At you I stick out both my tongues. Or, if not directly at you, certainly to either side.
That's two two true. Twice the tongues. Oh, hear me, my cubby, when those lollipops reminisce with their kin up and to the left in Lolly Heaven, they'll know what it has been to be properly well sucked! And speaking of . . .
A C-cup to the left and another to the right. A Double-Bubble double suckle, "Two CCs, stat!" and after that every stand is a two-nighter. They love that deep Frenchy soul sucking kiss while sweet whispered nothings tickle their ears.
So you scream, little one mouth. You with both the ability and the reason to. With two sets of taste buds my life is just too sweet.