Saturday night sermon-writing

Tonight I gave birth to a sermon about trust. Or at least that's how it feels. The only thing missing are the stitches in my vagina. Trust me when I say I've got nothing left for a blog post tonight, but I still love you all.

And if you love me, cross your fingers that I don't totally suck a great big green donkey dick tomorrow at church. The sermon I mean. Not literally. A Man Called Horse read it and gave it a thumbs up, so I don't feel as shitty about it as I did half an hour ago. Writing sermons is harder than writing blog posts about vaginas. And not as much fun.

Thanks for stopping by. Good night.