The Prospect Of Change Is A Many-fanged

Life Is Messy. Would That Every Puzzle Piece Fell Into Place, Every Word Was Kind, Every Accident Happy, But Such Is Not The Case. Life Is Messy

I'm Thinking Of Being A Professional Mourner. How Hard Can It Be? Tear At Your Hair, Sing A Dirge Or Two, Take The Rest Of The Week Off.

This Story Is Not And Never Was Meant To Challenge Anyone's Faith; However, If One's Faith Can Be Shaken By Stories In A Humorous Novel, One May Have A Bit More Praying To Do.

Hope Is Bulletproof, Truth Just Hard To Hit

And I'll Have You Know That If You Hurt My Son Again, If He So Much As Sighs Sadly Over His Coffee, I Will Hire A Man, A Russian, Probably, To Hunt You Down And Rip All That Shiny Black Hair From Your Head, Then Break Your Skinny Arms And Legs, And Set You On Fire, And Then Put You Out With A Hammer. And Should There Be Children From Your Beastly Rutting, I Shall Have The Russian Man Cut Them To Tiny Pieces And Feed Them To Madame Jacob's Dog. Because, Although He May Be Only A Worthless, Simpleminded, Libertine Artist, Lucien Is My Favorite, And I Will Not Have Him Hurt. Do You Understand?