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The road to hell is paved with silver
tongues ...mmm, slippery...
--Reverend O
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Welcome
to
the Chapel
The current Sermon:
Trial by Tourism
I was enduring trial by tourism in
Italy with Conar's dad and step mum, so
I missed the replies to the last "sort
of" sermon regarding the digitus
impudicus grail. Anyhoo, here it is.
"Whoa" sayeth the wise when their
vacation is planned by loud Cubanas who
enjoy being herded around on a tour bus
like sheep.
Yay, verily, we should fling mud
balls at them and run for our lives;
However, if the wise MacThoy finds
her/him self trapped within a boiling
sea of tour guides with a family they
would like to sort of impress, and
cornholed by her/his own manners, the
wise abide the scarlet travel service
sticker on his/her alabaster/ebony
breast quietly and politely, but only
after having a long island iced tea for
breakfast at the cheesy hotel out by the
Rome airport where they are unwittingly
caged like pathetic little veal cows.
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The Reverend O
The wise also
fall in love with smart young things
who bring relaxing pills with them
when they leave home for extended
stays , and the wise take the
relaxing pills when they are given .
Amen.
Uh, oh yeah,
bavalom kavalom, love is all there
is.
Blessing to you
all.
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