I'm watching The Passion of the Christ for the first time; trying to watch, I should say. I know the story, I know what happens, I read the book. The gore's nice, well acted, but much like the book - - boooooooooooring.
It wasn't even twenty minutes into the flick when I started working on some projects that have needed serious attention. I kept it on as background noise, but that's about all it's been.
It was loaned to me by a friend who is a devout spiritualist. He and his wife keep jumping from church to church, which is the best way to do it, I feel. They prefer a denomination that sticks to the bible, and has a pasture who knows, feels, and accentuates the words within.
With football season approaching, we'll see how heavy his faith stays. Last season he saw maybe two games. I was impressed.
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I hate men; typical men. The ones that have ruined the love lives of guys like me for the rest of eternity, or at least until the nuclear winter erupts.
I hate women, because the majority of them fall for the typical male.
I hate people because people are stupid. Persons, individuals, I adore. If you don't understand what I just said, sorry, that's all your getting.
I miss pillow talk.
I miss holding hands.
I don't miss being cheated on.
I don't miss breaking up with a girl because I don't care about her anymore.
I really miss pillow talk.
I miss kissing a woman's shoulder.
I miss pecking a woman's hand with my lips.
I miss biting her in the tushi.
I miss being bitten (Just a bit, not too rough. [usually]).
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