Wednesday, September 26, 2018



                I have recently remembered that I was sexually assaulted by Mother Teresa at a lakeside toga party/kegger in the summer of 1977. I don’t recall exactly where the party occurred, or who all was there, but, really, how could I?! I mean, I was pretty wasted. I’m pretty sure it was on a beach somewhere…maybe in July or August. She—at least I think it was a she—came up to me and asked if I’d been drinking, which was a pretty dumb question since I had a cup of beer in my hand at the time. I think I might’ve said something like, “Yeah, babe, I’m three sheets to the wind!” To which she replied, “I wish your sheet would blow off in the wind, so I could get a good look at you, Studly Do Right!”
   Then she grabbed my crotch and kissed me.
               I don’t want to testify or anything, but I would like the FBI to conduct a thorough investigation into the matter. And I’m getting really sick of Republicans marginalizing me and questioning my story. I mean, they want to know who was there and where it was and if there were any witnesses. It feels like I’m being victimized all over again! All that should matter is my allegations. I mean, hello! I’m pretty sure it might have been Mother Teresa, right? Unless it was Sarah Palin. Or Ann Coulter. Although, the person did look kind of like Diane Feinstein, come to think of it. Shit, I need another bong hit.
                Anyway, I’ve got another 3-hour session with my lawyer tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll remember more stuff after that. Stay tuned.
                Peace out. Vote Democrat.

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