This is not realy chic

I slither out the sheets,

Put my tentacles in sheaths,

Begin a day that's mired in shit,

The brown must not let me seeth,

Get upset, and you're a cheat,

drown my sorrow in some cheese,

Find the saltiness and sheen,

Hope I will not impart a scheet

It will be like Creek of Shitt's,

Else i blame on gloam of Scheat,

Or escape and leave my seat.