About My Father told me my existence was due to Riunite wine and a faulty diaphragm. He also remembered that I was born during a violent thunderstorm that knocked out power and blew in the front doors of Mercy Hospital. He believed this was a biblical sign heralding the birth of the Anti-Christ. Swaddled in such love what has evolved over the intervening four decades should have been diagnosed sooner, I am not to blame. Advertisements Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:Like Loading...
Holy Fuck. Here you are. Brilliant.
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