Hog's Breath Café

Shallow she was, make up by the pound, eye shadow, crimping tool. So many rings all over. But nothing much in way of soul or heart, which does if you consider the world today, assist in adaptation and survival. So when the gang of thirty, all Harley guys, in leather, came to the town that day, they brought their filth into the Hog's Breath Café, where late that night, they had their grinning way, yes, all of them some sober, and used their calloused hands. Though no one had anticipated that she would smile throughout. And be an active and quite helpful if not to say aggressive, yet enthusiastic participant. And when the sun peeked in at dawn, she said ' Well guys, it has been fun, but nothing lasts these days, so, do you mind? I am most ready, right this second, truly. My name is Shallow and I own this happy joint.