Your Ideal Possession Candidate's A Thirteen-year-old Recently

I Hated The Words. Each One Was Like A Big Live Insect In My Mouth.

Grace Only Exists To Be Fallen From.

When I See Gurgling Retarded Children (that's God's Doing, By The Way, Not Mine) Happily Styling Their Hair With Their Own Stinking Mards, I Think Of Adam In Those Pre-marital Days. I Know He's Your Great-to-the-nth-degree-granddad And All - But I'm Afraid He Was Rather An Imbecile.

The First Horror Is There's Horror. The Second Is You Accommodate It.

Nicotine And Alcohol Embraced In My System Like Long-parted Siblings, Grateful To Me For Reuniting Them.