I been on the streets since pretty much I don’t know how long and I had some pretty good guys spotting me when I was super young. Nice guys, mostly AA dudes and that’s cool, but I learned from about the time I grew some grass on the field that having grass on the field is no way to play the game.

I got fuzzy and dudes got all kinds of creeped out and I was in no place to understand the damn thing. It killed me cuz I didn’t do anything wrong and I was still scrubbing my under-crotch as thorough as ever but it wasn’t about that.

So how come my Y-stretch wasn’t commanding the same money as before? More than not commanding it some of my best dads disappeared on me and my referrals dropped off stupid big like nobody’s business, sure as hell not my business and Joey was still asking me for his cut even though I didn’t have the money to pay him from. He only took most of it so him asking for money I didn’t have just about snuffed me into film.

Lucky for me, I called and called to talk to my best girl Britney. She didn’t answer of course (she’s way too busy as usual) but she did give me a sign. Few days later she went into the tabloids with a full va-jay-jay shine and I understood.

She’s so much older than me, she has to be in puertown by now, so she must be shaving, so I tried it myself. I didn’t know what I was doing so I bled like I did on my first adult month except from my outside area. I thought about it, weighed it (didn’t weigh my labialips or anything, I’m just saying I didn’t weight my options as much but I did.) No worries, I looked at my girl Britney (saw her clammy toes and read the message) and fingered out what she’s all about and took it into and onto myself.

So I flicked m Bic and cut the piney woods back to new growth and my money went right back through the roof, and God smiled upon my smile and saw that it was goooood.

If you have a Va-Kitty and wanna consider your mufferous status, look at the jammy camel of Britney in any of your favorite tabloids and recognize the message. She says you gotta trim it down and make it pretty as a bizzle, and you can make more money, get more men to love it better (without throat floss embarrassment) and make men munch your muff with unbelievable fury and fervor, trim that kitty like it’s about to get fixed.

That’s why I trim the SZ out of my F’ing C-spot (or G-Spot, but I haven’t found that just yet. I will tho, I swear.)