Even though I haven't quite learned what perfection is, I'd still like to welcome you to the life of a perfectionist.
And I must mention this,
I don't mean perfectionist, In the type of light where I comb and crimp my hair.
Spraying more chemicals on my head than what I smoke in a square. (cigarette) But I mean, perfectionist in the type of light where I turn into a chemist whenever I get to where my paper and pen is.
Whether it's Denver or Venice, no Dennis but I'm a menace.
If I said it then I meant it, leave you reddish with blemish from a perfected fist from a perfectionist.
But like I said, I haven't quite figured out what perfection is.
So maybe I'm just not quite a perfectionist, so maybe I'll just call this, "perfection-ish."