Thanks for this completely incoherent post. Are you drunk on cock?
Uh, close your bold tag. You've bolded the whole Slog.
What a difference a state makes. My dad goes to "men's breakfasts" at their church in Maine. Last summer the menfolk all started complaining because there was a new pastor who made them pray and talk about the Bible and stuff during the pancakes.
They just wanted to talk about cars, the E Coli level in the lakes, their grandkids, etc., etc. But then someone had to bring up all that God stuff and ruin it...
In between my laughter, I suggested that they should go out to breakfast at the local diner instead.
Are you the new Adrian Ryan or what. That sucked, learn to make sense kthx.
Wichita Falls, Texas? I have family from there. So many summers when I was little involved Wichita Falls. Tarantulas, ticks, tornados, wax melting off my dead uncle's face at his open casket funeral. Ah, definitely good times in Wichita Falls.
I'm the new Rip Taylor. It's hard to make sense when your mind is ravaged by confetti and cancer wigs.
Death and Texas go so well together! My uncle was crushed by a cascade of giant telephone poles unloosed from their pile atop an 18 wheeler trailer bed.
And I am DYING to know who your family is! Small-Town Intrigue!
You know what would make this post better? In the middle, put SCROTUM! in bold and all caps.
Why are all these born again Christians so damn fat? Haven't they heard of dieting or the gym?
"Hold Your Load Balls" -fer tha fellas. Good thinkin.
nick nick nick! don't move to nyc! stay here and we'll dish about Seattle Opera and SJ!!!
What does it say about me that I totally understood this post?
Also, does that pic remind any one of a hot bukakke scene?
non? dearling? have you just considered the fact that YOU'RE JUST TOO FUCKING SLOW TO KEEP UP? no? well. that's not so very surprising.
Wow. This should be a regular feature on Slog.
Horrors. From Texas, too.
HA! I SO relate to your post. OMG! Like I was your long lost gay twin cousin or some damn thing. I grew up Nazarene in Wichita Falls. The only balls I ever remember getting had absolutely nothing to do with purity. And yeah, what a total surprise to find out about the glory hole thing. Jeebus...
Thanks for giving me a great laugh this morning!
Good post, Nick. We had Promise Keepers where I was growing up, or, as my feminist theology professor liked to call them...the kindler, gentler patriarchy.
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