So there it was. Quivering. Hulking. Gyrating.

So there it was. Quivering. Hulking. Gyrating. Like it had a life of its own. It was sick. Diseased. Disgusting. It was

Mother Theresa. Ok, so she was jealous. Who wouldn't be? Sister Wanker finished drawing the mustache on Theresa's icon and considered her awful fate.

Sister Wanker had not been your typical novice when she entered the convent. Instead Sister Wanker had been a Las Vegas show girl, living in the fast lane. Until the day

she met Art. He excited her more than any

the semi-toxic fluids used to preserve the moles we were mounting, but the burning in my eyes was from love and desire. I had never met a man who could play the yakuza, and he

was also skilled in other impossible feats, such as flying the tuba, and water-cooling bison. Bursting with desire I yelled, "make the impossible happen here!", and ripped open my

satchel full of humongous statues of kookaburras in awkward positions. Chanting mysteriously I glanced towards the whale that had brought me here, a wink confirming

what I already knew; that the whale was totally in love with me. That was fine by me, being a bit of a whaleophile myself, but I wanted to play hard to get, so I smirked at it.

"OK you big son of a gun, lets put our differences aside and make a go of it" and thats how I came to be in love once more... Just call me Ishmail