The braggadocio thumb in the armpit, the pointed elbow to keep competition at bay and the dollar bill worn on the shoulder, are all indications of a narcissist.
His view of women is that they are bodies with no minds of their own. Their lower bodies are up for grabs. His lips reaches everywhere to kiss them – whenever and wherever he wants.
While eyeing his own sexual fulfillment, his head is filled with breasts with aroused nipples. That he depends heavily on his macho exposure to support his ideas is beyond doubt.
The words voiced by his tongue have a large hole in the logic. His thoughts are as twisted and unrealistic as his limbs, which keep manipulating the reality surrounding him to impose his own views.
He sips the truth he wants to digest from one source only – a bottled version of his own brand of green.
The cigarette is full of burning criticism for his persona, a poison he filters through the holder.
His whole being has taken on the color of the greenback dollar, but he’s not large enough to fit the pants he has proposed to fill. Yet he still has the aspiration to ride into the sunset with the approval he vainly seeks – that is, the approval of everybody.