A layer of ash covered the streets and a cacophony of alarms refused to cease. I remember the 60 block walk home up the middle of 6th Avenue which was completely void of all traffic, except for sporadic rescue vehicles from neighboring counties with unfamiliar demarcations rushing downtown, their sirens piercing the eerie silence. Crowds of people gathered outside any establishment with a television, standing like statues in anesthetized silence.
Even though this was about 9/11, I feel like this could be My Life: The Zombie Movie.
You wouldn’t know a classy broad if she took a dump on your head.
Let me give you a little inside information about God. God likes to watch. He’s a prankster. Think about it. He gives man instincts. He gives you this extraordinary gift, and then what does He do, I swear for His own amusement, His own private, cosmic gag reel, He sets the rules in opposition. It’s the goof of all time. Look but don’t touch. Touch, but don’t taste. Taste, don’t swallow. Ahaha. And while you’re jumpin’ from one foot to the next, what is He doing? He’s laughin’ His sick fuckin’ ass off! He’s a tight-ass, He’s a sadist, He’s an absentee landlord! Worship that? Never!
Awesome.
“The bloody assassin of the workers, I presume?” short, but sweet.
“You may read the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, and you will not find a single line authorizing the sanctification of Sunday. The Scriptures enforce the religious observance of Saturday, a day which we never sanctify.”
I did never go to church on Sunday, despite my family’s protests..so..well.
Ananke's Stuff 