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And they're all me, looking back at me, wondering: What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Back when I was a little girl, it was all so much simpler. If only I'd found that little black girl of my dreams, the one my Uncle Anonymous was always teasing me about; I think he had a slight kink for them. And yes Mr PC master, you can't say black girl anymore, but I can say: Go fuck yourself. Oh, you're all tuckered out from doing that already and still not slaked? That kind of sore, that never sleeps? My sympathies, or whatever that is in pretendspeak.