I’d like to tell you a story in which I push for the death penalty, suit you up with a jury and lay your crime before the court in a manner I learned from Ms. Eliza: Three mice rode a
On Preparing Skeletons for the Closet
If the hacksaw had been used there wouldn’t be so much (yes it is unbelievable, but ask the sky to drop; evidence of bone in the meat the poem will wait; go on) (of course we speak
Even the Army in White, River-wet Baptismal Garments Will Come for Her In Hell
It was so rooky how the BloodGoodBabe first watered down the strychnine for newcomers, so their tolerance would be demi-god like by the time they’d begin professing on their own, but the power of prayer is like yearning to strike