Pirate Misadventures in the Midwest

Monday, September 15, 2008

dear god,

it's me, pasqualina. and this? this is not acceptable. some divine intervention? just a smidge? more?
plz oh god plz?

YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I PRAY, WHICH IS EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY. many times a day. I have prayers for yellow lights. I have prayers for safety while driving. I have chants for driving in the city. I have chants for cooking in the kitchen. There is an altar to you in my car. There is an altar to you in my studio. and one in the kitchen and one on the back porch. AND I LEFT MY ALTAR TO YOU AT THE CASA DI OAKENFOLD because it wouldn't fit in the car.

they didn't like my purple hair at your house of god. they didn't like my politics and they STARED DOWN THEIR NOSES WHILE I MADE BEAUTIFUL MUSIC. so i found somewhere better to pray. under trees, admittedly, but THEY PROMISED ME, YOUR MINISTERS. THEY PROMISED ME YOU DIDN'T CARE WHERE.

so if you want me to go to mass and pray in your house, i will. but it better be in latin.

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