Friday

Sunday, May 1st, as translated by Gizoogle...

Would you like ta touch mah tiara?

The truth has become painfully obvious.
It’s a trizzay tizzy I’ve joked `bout often enough, but it always was just a jizzy.
But it is a trizzay.
And mah gangsta will be so proud.

I, Wanna Be Gangsta aka K.A. Thompson, aka Wabbit, am a transvestite.

There, I said it.
I am a cross brotha.

I present this trizzuth ta be sizzelf evident; one look into mah closet n dressa bears tha chillin' revelizzles in its complete light of be'n and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow. Wit tha exception of mah unmentizzles n a few brightly colored blaza, I thizzay all mah rhymin' was purchased in tha men’s departments of various stores like this and like that and like this and uh.

Men’s jeans. Heck, they fit playa n is cheapa.
Men’s sweatshirts. Mizzuch more comfy.
Men’s t-shirts. Not mizzy choice there; mah torso is too long fo` miznost bitchez’s shirts.
Men’s socks. Jiznust coz.

I am tha antithesis of all th'n girly.

And…n…I have a beard yaba daba dizzle. It’s just a shawty goatee, but I can G-R-to-tha-izzow more on mah chizzin thizzan mizzle 15 year old boys. And a surgeon once leaned in n looked H-to-tha-izzard, thizzen asked “Have you always had tizzy mustache?”

Whizzay yes.
Yes, I have.
Thizzay you fo` notic'n.

I suppose I should embrace this revelizzles n gradually begin scratch'n me in frizzay of otha people, blam'n special odors on tha cat, n hogg'n tha remote droppin hits. Instead of listen'n ta a problem I could just jump in n try ta fix it before I’m even asked fo yo bitch ass. I could pizzle underwear up off tha floor n snizniff ta see if it’s gots one more good day left in it.

Or not.
I’m not transgendizzle pusha all.

I am a D-R-to-tha-izzag king.

I am so easily amused...

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