Ten Tips for Experiencing Earthly Delights

If pleasures of the flesh must be endured to afford your anti-Satanic doctrine with credulity, visit a nearby ravine with Britannica. Hang on to her. Clasp fists full of her puffy jacket’s down. Kiss her fluorescent pink lips. Think to yourself,

“It’s been too long, ” though it has not been particularly long.

One: Engage carnally. Cleanse “frustrated spontaneous emissions” 30 from your stomach with a baby wipe from a travel pack once used to change diapers, and then to live rough, and now for this noble purpose: the end goal of emancipating Marcel_Proust from the Archfiend’s conflagrant clutches.

Two: Animatedly ask Britannica to dance. Partake of Britannica’s digital marijuana pen. Offer a mannered and put-on, “Hail Satan” in response to Britannica’s earnest and robust, “Hail Satan!”

Three: Should you inquire, “Know any good awnings we might squat beneath?” Britannica’s apprehensive grimace 30 (Wargo E., 218) will make clear that you are the only homeless party in this impromptu romance.

Four: “My parents aren’t home. ”

Five: “Rigid moralists? Bible-thumping Protestants?”

Six: “They’re very progressive actually. They wouldn’t care. They only protestant against corporations and stuff that’s actually bad. ”

Seven: Travel to an aptly-furnished Thornhill McMansion. Disrobe. Simulate desirable and dramatic poses in a steamy shower. Stay fused to her ornate twist of a waistline.

Eight: In passion’s throe, craftily test the waters by issuing the commonplace expression of pleasure, “Oh my God!”

Nine: “What did you just say?”

Ten: “Nothing whatsoever. ”