Maranatha is a cry of the heart
That's hopeful yet weary of waiting
While it may be joyful with the burdens it bears
It's sick with anticipating
To long for the Promised One day after day
And the promise that soon He'd return
It's certain that waiting's the most bitter lesson
A believing heart has to learn
This is your asshole:
Probably looks more like this, actually: *
Overcooked Brussels sprouts == nausea. Otherwise, they are good.
Spiders... These days, I mostly do live and let live with the spiders. Wasn't always the case, though. Back when I was six or seven, my dad had brought a transformer home from some kind of project - basically a ten or fifteen pound chunk of iron. I though that it would be a good thing to use to get rid of the spider web in the corner of the garage. So I dragged it over there, lifted it up, and dropped it through the spider web. Onto my foot.
Yeah, tell me about it.
I want a double cheese burger, onion rings and a large orange drink. (please)
I used to think that Windows is for people who don't really know how to use a computer. Someone showed me a Mac recently and it has changed my perspective. Windows is WRITTEN by people who really don't know how to use a computer.
Linux - it's not just for breakfast anymore.
American politics is about as much fun as a do-it-yourself root canal where someone has stolen the novacaine and left you with a rusty drill bit in its place.
This is an experiment. I have another account that I consider my main one but this one is for more clandestine functions.
Make no assumptions about what you find here because not is all as it seems.
The moving cursor writes, and having written, blinks on.
