oh, jesus, please come gather your soldier-eeiest hypocrites. really. they've exhausted us completely and we're ready for your second coming. if you'd like to drop them at hell's gate, we're all for that. though I have a feeling one of the blogs I love, the pitchfork will be none to pleased. unless of course, you grant them permission to hang them from their hateful, zealot ballsacks and nipples. who wouldn't appreciate such a decorative ceiling arrangement?! when fundamentalists dress up psychic cindy predictions as, god said, it just sends my vulva lips twitching like a country cricket on a hot summer eve. who better to make those predictions than the one, the only, pat pining for cock robertson . that queen sure does love being the bell of a crystal ball, doesn't she?! ps: to my beautiful fagehalla's, while I hate to pawn her off on you, we all know she's a bible thumping, glory hole suckin' queen. she just hasn't been caught with the dar...