Not worth swatting away the swarm of uber-femme-gays that assuredly buzz around her. Should you defeat the first wave of defense, you would most likely find that not only does she like her singing voice, but her talking voice as well and explains in a monotonous and condescending tone her life story and how "free" she is in her lifestyle over the course of several hours. Frustrated, you would excuse yourself, uproot your own prick like a dead weed, and be found dead on a cold, pink-tiled bathroom floor with your deflated glans poking out of your fist like an extra thumb.