Do You Believe?

                          sponsored by Celibate Recovery(a town in one of only three California Congressional Districts
of fiftythree(or 0.0566 per cent) whorecorded(she liked that) a majority vote for Willard Romney for president in 2012)

she couldnt help herself 

to the left of the query of Do You Believe? was a broad crucifix a collage of faces of fervent beatific men women and children

Who were they trying to kid

she lived there and day after day she was approached by these kind of pictured pious men who surreptitiously propositioned her and then scoffed when she snarled  Beat it Buddy  Hit the road 

Dont let the door hit you on the ass on your way out

they acted as if she didnt know what she was missing

Lemme guess

                        touting the frenetic missionary position(I aint submissive) without foreplay  ten sublime seconds of rooting then cumming and going without any real sense or idea that a woman wants and needs her satisfaction too 
Wait!

Dont go away mad   Ahhuh

Just go away

 

she had to be fair

                              Do You Believe? was sponsored by Celebrate Recovery(in a city of the aforementioned Congressional District) that had gotten her goat exercised her worked her emancipated autonomy begged her slippery venom since she moved there as a young girl with her parents who sought for their family a rural setting to live in and believed it would be a far better place to be raise their daughters than in urban surroundings where they had begun their lives because their parents wanted to raise them with unfettered access and failed to realise the unexpected consequences those accesses might provide them and couldnt be revoked because they said so

 

their Becauses and Noes were short-lived reasons and long-term excuses

   

Oh the Tits for Tats 

 

Oh the What goes round comes round

Do You Believe?

                           shed already thrown her car in reverse and through her rearview and side mirrors she watched their patriarchy slip past and into the ordained obscurity that was hers to deem and per her fathers skillful instruction she ran her car mirrors in ecclesiastical rotation Stations of the Cross to identify what was coming up behind her and remain alert to their presence

he taught her the right hand lane was to be traveled in the left to pass but there was always some yahoo driving below the speed limit to gum up the works because it seemed they wanted the world to run at their pace  

                                                                                                                                                              not what was efficient

or law-biding

Wasnt God above the Law

of course he wasnt

though you really couldnt in all honesty reprimand figments of ones i(magi)nation

No   best those tender bits were left alone 

                                                                     bypassed

Buhbye Moomoochachu(horrible  --  she always got that wrong  --  but it made her laugh)

and cutting inside their languishing vehicles she passed to their right but slowed down just enough to look through their passengers window at their fixed profiles and white-knuckled grip at the wheel and waved with her right exaggerated crocodiles jaws chomping and mouthed over the top of them Buhbye Moomoochachu before accelerating up to the posted speed limit

her father wouldnt take kindly to her taunting(she wouldnt say)

but he would be pleased she traveled in the right lane

No  She Didnt Believe

      

1612,  Day-Between-Two-Ts,  9  9. 15

2240,  Saturday,  12  9. 15