(inspired by Goodreads ad & this blog’s search results)

I was lounging on a white sand beach in the South Pacific. Sunblocked. Shaded. Naked except for a floppy straw hat, Christian Dior sunglasses and my platinum purity ring. I was sipping a virgin Mai Tai, watching the clouds so plump and lazy in the azure sky, thinking about the seared swordfish and apple walnut spinach salad I had for lunch. God spoke to me in a voice that brought a stoned Jim Morrison to mind. This is what he told me:

My child, why dost thou lounge and linger when there is work to be done? My precious vessel, I blessed thou with superb genes…why dost thou not commingle them with a Ken doll come to life and pass such bounty on? The world, my world, will not be complete until thou dost my bidding. Find thee a Ken doll come to life without haste. He will love your tan, your teeth, your tits, your sweet honeyed cunt. There will be music. Michael Bolton, perhaps. Love now for tomorrow, not literally tomorrow but metaphorically tomorrow, thou will be so much food for the maggots. Love, damn you! Fuck! Screw! Hump! Copulate! Be KNOWN by one other than thyself! A child will be born. At least one child but ideally three…yes…three children will be born. Heather, Skylar and Bryce. There will be a dream minivan, dream mansion and dream Mexican maid to make things really fucking hum. Peace out, babe.

I knew it was the truth because my pussy was quivering and a bird with brilliant plumage flew by screeching TESTIFY! Also, in the Holy American Bible the words of Jesus are in red and red is the color of my shed bikini.

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