Saturday, November 19, 2005


He woke up in a dull haze of pain, groggy and feeling a seriously disturbing throbbing coming from his crotch.
The hotel room showed signs of every wierd night people had spent there, from the peeling faded red velvet wallpaper to the dog chewed Gideon's bible.
He staggered to his feet, slid into the bathroom and relieved himself under the ugly, flickering flourescent light.
He was unerved by the size of his bandages and swelling, more than a little worried about what had been done to him, hoping that he'd be able to make the long ride home without being sick.
As he fell back onto the bed, he noticed the bible, and picked it up and flipped through till he came the book of Dueteronomy. It had been years since the book his parents shoved down his throat had even crossed his mind, but bits of that old hellfire and brimstone crap still lingered somewhere in the back of his brain.
Would his vasectomy reversal keep him out of the old testament hell? Or was he damned for having one in the first place?
He'd have lots of time to think about that as the beer and oxycontin kicked in. That 400 pound blanket of narcotic love beat the old testament any day in his book.

Deuteronomy 23:1
He that is wounded in the stones, or hath his privy member cut off, shall not enter into the congregation of the LORD.

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"Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis." Ralph Waldo Emerson