Oh yeah, Kim, it's awesome. It's a whole new you. It's like you're entirely somebody else. So much so, that it's enough to make everybody forget that Ray-J rammed his dick so far up your ass, that you had to open your mouth so he could take a piss. You're unrecognizable. You don't look anything like the girl who tried to dupe people by faking a wedding and then divorcing, so you had material for your "reality" show. The transformation is so stunning, I can't believe it's the same girl who swore up and down she would never pose nude for playboy. That is, until Kris "I own your ass" Kardashian, you call her Mom, upped the pay day for your whore ass. Just so you wouldn't feel that Hef pulled up to your corner in a Maserati, but instead made a call to your Madame, once again, you call her Mom. Everybody knows that call girls are better than hookers, right?
Look, Kimberly, pookums. A leopard can't change its' spots. Especially when that leopard 's skin doesn't even belong to her. Even if you had enough resolve to tell your mother, Kristopholes, to stick it, what would you do after she reached down your throat and snatched your soul from its' seat? Okay, besides porn, or anything involving the flesh trade? See? It's never gonna happen, kitten
.
Just accept the fact that you have black man's kryptonite for an ass, work it for all it's worth and be happy.
Kristopholes stretched that 15 minutes into overtime and then some. But even a soul dealing she-demon's power has its' limits. As does the appetites and digestibility of the general public. Sorry, sunshine, that's just the whats.
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