His nipples. My eyes. The future of our nation.
I feel almost as violated as that poor wooden lion tucked stuffed snuggly in the boglike sweatbox of his muscle crotch. *In Uncle Ruckus voice* Why lawd, why??????? If there is a Heaven in the sky, I hope he owns that damn thang.
I'm not gonna try to break this down for you. I'm too busy finishin' up a grape twin pop and singing "We've got to pray just to make it today!"
Just let this be a warning of what happens when you don't tithe - don't give Jaysus his dough, and he'll snatch up your sight like THAT!
Tell me you won't see this in your sleep tonight! My face will be origami'd for life.
Meanwhile, there's a Steve Harvey link to this fuckery.
(PS: I disagree with Jamie's usually spot on analysis. Steve Harvey, while strongly resembling a youthful James Earl Jones, is NOT shaped like a busted hot water bottle. He's actually shaped like a hot water HEATER. Way different.)
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