Sitting On the Bench, N*gger We Don't Really Play

I am one for the strange. I am one for the contradiction. I’m also a person who makes all their important decisions with the very valuable lessons learnt from Tom & Jerry, Looney Toons, Rugrats, As Told By Ginger, Adventure Time and Courage the Cowardly Dog. As you’ve probably noticed (or are googling now) these are all cartoons.
And as someone who loves to boast her originality and indifference to the world, I really find it retarded when people try to broadcast what they're not. I mean, if you're a bitch then be a bitch. Be the bitchiest bitch in all of Bitchtopia. Not that it would be much of a utopia with bitches runnin' around everywhere. (Not that I'm hating on bitches because in the words of the great Tina Fey: "bitches get things done.")
Unless you're Edward Scissorhands or a raging pervert, why should you have to hide who you are? Pedos get a pass because they're to be chopped and screwed!
Why can't you bound from the roofs of old age apartments and scream "CRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNCH-CH-CH-EEEEEEEE"?
Why can't you scribble all over your face, add a polka dot tie and doodle cherry pies all over your abs (or lack there of) at the beach? Well, maybe for the fact that a bunch of three year olds with permanent markers might join in. And that's not enjoyable.

Have fun and let your fur fly, all ye bitches and warthogs (the world's sexiest hog). Just stay off that peanut butter, if my petition goes through it will be illegal in four Czechoslovakian states.
Khenzo xx