Eh, we're all a basket full of crazy. I go dumpster diving for mutilated images of mermaids and write poems so sappy I can supply a syrup factory. who's to say we aren't capable of translating someone's speech into ebonics? Plus that sort of thinking Frettzo is what we in the business call a 'refuge in audacity". Something so strange or vulgar that others simply dismiss it as satire. And maybe it is, maybe it isn't. As the living joke, I make a killing living in the refuge of audacity.