Carlton, Senior Listed Player, 2009, Matthew Kreuzer
Matthew Kreuzer, after entering the breathing world feet first, has always put his best one forward, even if that means his head always comes last. It's his head, a vessel for his brain, that says it all through the cavity below the nose.
The Hair: let's not go there. Let's not. Let's talk about something else. No idea how to get a decent cut. Makes you look funny and not in a good way. Not good. Circa 1987. Belongs down a pipe. Smokes the good stuff. Gets high.
The Teeth: do we have to? This is getting old. Uncontrollable obsession. All over the shop. A mad woman's mustard. Better if you don't smile. I'll pay you. Later. Ask your father. More than his mouth can handle. Ate his way out of the womb.
The Skin: I'd really rather not. Can't stop now. Waste of cyberspace. Like the rest. A sign of trouble. A head. Michael Jackson had the same. Father can't handle his own tender anus. Beats the laugh out of him. Nice to see. Good for the kid.
August Strindberg says: "I'm not going to just sit here and let my wife have all the fun. I'm going to put words on a piece of paper that will make her think thrice about trying to usurp my role as a man. Except for the lawns. She can do those."
