I got married to Jesus in the Fall of '76. Flares on my arms, flares on his legs. Then I had an affair. With his Father. Eh. I got pregnant. Jesus II. He's now in a Muslim high school and gets along rather nicely with all the "curry terrorists". There's release in this sodomy. For I am your witness that blood and flesh can be trusted. And only this one holy medium brings me piece of mind. Got your hands bound, your head down, your eyes closed. You look so precious now.
Interests
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens... brown paper packages tied up with string... warm woolen mittens. What kind of boring, unoriginal, immature f*#ks actually fill these things out? Get some security people. I heard they were handing packets of them out along with stapled condoms at the Catholic Church on Tuesdays.
