orthodoxanarchist

god is a well endowed sow aloft a pile of hay in a dimly lit, rundown red barn her teats turned up at her children offering sustenance for every living thing if only they the patience pigs at the trough dayenu doesn't dawn and it's never enough well if'n that don't make me a potbellied... someone make a side of chazzer trayf outta me the sleet was thick at the top of gilo last night the windows fogged and frosted i thought we were goners for sure comin' round that hairpin what with the busted radiator "my friend, do you have 500 shekels to fix?" and sagol's stories about triple flips down embankments o jerusalem your bitter c