Oh that face. Oh, that body. Oh, that ass. We're all in agreement. Kirra Lynne is a livin' doll, but it's just too bad you're a white man. Because, under her guidelines, Kirra don't even know you're alive. Sure, you could probably torch a banquet hall with one of your exquisitely rendered farts. And that probably got the ugliest cheerleader on the high squad to go out with you. But not Kirra. And you could probably dance- but no dice if your name ain't James Brown. Check that ass out, again. You could be having that right now- Kirra spreading those playful cheeks on your lap. But you ain't a brother. And because of that, we would kill ourselves right now if we were you.