I am not a warm person.  different gods, none exist.  did this really happen?  the things I counted myself as a person passing were longer than I thought.  someone kissed jesus on the ear before he could get from bad fish the poisoning that took your mother from hers.  now is the act of stuffing a picnic blanket into a basket of doll grief and then is the fossil of suffering that bones invisibility for daring to redress the father of great avoidance about the loss of behavior in his boys of sudden things.  what I do I don’t when gutting a stork.