My good sir, I do believe that my brains have received quite a vigorous scrambling over the course of my life. To illustrate my point, let me relate to you an experience I had whereupon I ventured into yonder scullery, a single room away from my original location preceding the events of this tale, perhaps a mere three and a half yards in terms of distance. No sooner than I had arrived at my destination did I feel myself overcome with great sadness and descended into a dreadful melancholy for no particular reason that I could deduce.
Ah, but it made me reminisce of my beloved "T". The light of my life, the fire of my loins. How I yearn for your soft embrace, my precious "T". And yet it is a touch I will never know again. Why have you damned me to this hell, oh God?! Have I not been a decent and pious man? I renounce you, oh Lord! I offer up to you now my erect phallus so that you may drag it along the very cleft of your mother's posterior! Indeed, if you even have a mother at all!
And I beg of you to tell me, who assigned you to such lofty position in the celestial hierarchy, you swarthy negro? I dare say that no one did! This so-called "God", I decry His very existence! And who can claim to know if it is even a "He" at all? Indeed, who can claim to have any knowledge of the divine?
