Shit in my Yard

Like most homos, I grew up being given Ninja Turtles, various Nerf Weapons and other butch toys for the standard occasions such as birthdays, christmases (how the hell do you pluralize christmas?), and other life events such as confirmation into the church and such. All of which was met with a solid “meh.” Like most mos, I knew where the sisters kept the barbies (and the barbie ferrari!!). I also knew how to make that bitch work it like naomi campbell.

So you can imagine my shock, awe and sheer glee and subsequent devastation when at neighbor friend’s house, we found her, minding her own damned business in the shrubbery, decapitated like an Al Qaeda hostage.

You first, and most importantly, have to ask yourself, who gnawed the head?  And why?  Did they give her a really bad haircut (sidenote, that shit doesn’t grow back.  learned the hard way) and go all Mommy Dearest on that shit?  And why’s she naked?  Had it been a Ken doll, it would have made sense, total walk of shame out of my buddy’s house, but a lady?  really?

So here’s what I think happened:  Late night, totally smacked out on some china white heroin, just like naomi campbell, Ms. B decides she needs another fix.  We live in the ghetto, so she heads over to our local dealers’ houses (god knows how many there are), tries to trade some action in the toilet cubicle for a hit, and then the shit hits the fan, or really, her head hits the fan.  Knocks it clear across the room, she runs out like a freshly butchered chicken, stumbles, lands and winds up spread eagle in my neighbor’s shrubbery.  Sad.

The moral here is perfectly clear.  Stop giving gay kids butch toys.

and say no to drugs, naomi campbell.