In Contrast To How My

Anti-racist Propaganda Is Relentless And Inescapable, As If The Propagandists Fear That If They Shut Up About It For A Second, They'd Instantly Become Racists Themselves.

I Prefer For A Woman's Most Private Of Areas To Have As Much Hair As Carlos Santana's Entire Band, Head To Toe, Circa 1972.

It's Very Odd To Observe Someone Else Taking Your Identity Into Their Own Hands And Getting It All Wrong. I Don't Think Most People Will Ever Get To Experience How Truly Weird It Is.

Hatred Is The Air I Breathe. It Permeates Every Cell In My Body.

A Lot Of People Expend Great Time And Effort Explaining Why They Don't Like Me, But None Of Them Ever Try To Explain Why Their Opinion Should Matter To Me. I Think Most Of Them Sense, But Would Never Be Brave Enough To Admit, Their Subordinate Role In The Food Chain Relative To Me.