Remember when everyone thought God was a forgetful bear cult and we all ran into the woods shouting Gods secret name? I don’t know how you spell it, really it was just a bunch of fart noises. Anywho it turned out God had married the Devil, who’d taken carnal form as a pit of snakes, that talked like Charles Nelson Reilly. It was a beautiful autumn wedding. The dusk was setting and the bats spoke to you of quietly coming undone. Remember? In front of everyone, remember? How you were happy and then you forgot why you were happy so you got sad?
Well as Charles Nelson Reilly would yell, “Wake up bitch! This pile of snakes isn’t going to fuck itself.”