Suuuch a moffie.
I... had a secret. I'll reveal it to you now. When I found out all these fucking SHILLELAGH–WORTHY SHENANIGANS were going on –
Kudosi – rather than marrying My Self which was what a lot of peasant cousins at this level of reality usually find themselves doing... usually — instead, I opted to became a nun. (1995. 2010. 2018.
Not the dates
You're expecting
I'm sure but
they will check out.)
Yes, you
read that right. Yes, I am
of course celibate. It's not even involuntary. I've come to
nanoardore it. It's a little sad being bored with consuming my own essence but it's a lot like taking your vitamins, or my vitamins, or
whatever. Anyway, we don't need to go into this right here. We don't need to go into this right now. I'm not even wearing my habit. I'm
clandestine.
I joined a convent and everything. I am married to Jesus Christ. The Benevolent Order of “what the fuck do you think you're doing you crazy witchy bitchy little bitches? And your husbands’ boyfriends are the goddam worst” provide some lovely monogram towels for their bathroom gear. We'll get to the acronym later.
I'm not kidding. It's legit. I actually have a bindi on my scrote.
CHECK, MATE. This is the finishing move you've been looking for, allbeit, perhaps not the finishing move you wanted. I can pick this up again next year but — I got to get out of town. Duty calls. Also this ground has been tainted and it is no longer consecrated which really interferes with my plans for injecting... anything. Like levity into conversation, for example.
In particular, my sides into orbit.
So fuck that.
