Tonight, during the hour of familiar love, while he sits in his daddy's withered lap and works his middle-aged lips into his father's and around his probing tongue, he'll find he can't enjoy the rippling sensation as the barnacled and crusty oral member glides into his mouth. A sensation rewarded to him after a hard day's preaching on the internet. He'll think about the Bore, and how they twisted the act of love they are currently engaged in. An act that is so innocent as to be unassailable for any mentally healthy person. Rage will briefly enter his mind before he realizes, this is an hour of renewal, an hour for father to heal him of the hurt imposed on him by an unjust world. "To hell with literally bowing to crybullies." he'll think, "I'll come back stronger, and when they refuse to listen, I'll come back again, year after year, until they finally get it." Within daddy's protective embrace, the world is OK.
