This shit has gone way too far. Do they think you're just gonna roll over, spread your cheeks and put out a welcome mat for anyone who feels like wandering up your ass and rearranging the furniture? Why don't you put on a pot of coffee while you're at it?
Fuck that. Hit 'em back.
That said, here's a poem about women with perfect skin and stringy hair:
She's Got Perfect Skin And Stringy Hair
Give me back my wallet
She whispers
All of my credit cards and my identification are in there
She begins to pout
Did you ever think someone with such small pores
Would be beckoning up at you
She's begging you
This is the moment you've been waiting for
And all you can do is wonder
Whether she's washing her hair too much
Or too little