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For the first time since... uh... maybe ever, I can honestly say I am all sexed out.
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On the 20th, I am going to be getting The Devil tattooed on my arm by a lesbian in San Francisco.

And that is exactly how I am going to tell my mother.
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On Karma.

Last night, prompted by a house discussion about shoplifting, I examined the nature of karma and my belief therein, or more correctly, the lack thereof. I don't believe in the supernatural. I don't believe in the soul, in fate, in an omniscient father creator that maintains a balance of "good shit vee bad shit" based on a running tab of your morality.

But...
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