I don't bother with the Diana thing...well, because it's a "thing." So when friends send me stuff or post stuff from "the Thing," I'm always surprised as to how much "the Thing" bothers with me. It seems like I'm they're favorite, if not ONLY, subject. LOL.
If all I did was propagate lies, as the Thing claims, then there would be no need to give me so much attention.
You gotta wonder what the Thing is so afraid of that all the Thing can do, apparently, is spend itself in loathing and raging against me.
Here's one of the amusements, copied and posted by my friend, Jose:
LOL. So apparently I'm "collapsing, rolling and raving in (my) own dirt," and they know me "better than (my) own confessor." LOL!!!!
So what is the Thing going all looney-tunes about?
Near as I can tell it was my description of what it must feel like to be an innocent prepubescent boy who was sexually penetrated and masturbated on by the same cleric who he must serve at the altar. Here, Let me copy it for you:
One can only imagine the MESS of a life this poor child will now live. He sees his abuser feted and respected and honored and even holding up the Body of Christ with the same hands which groped his genitals. The child is forever wounded, tortured. Who would believe him if he ever spoke of what that man did to him?
No apologies for being graphic. I'm actually holding back.
After I posted this, several people who read the Thing noted that there appeared to be someone else manning the Thing as the attacks against me grew exponentially vicious.
I'm pretty sure I know Who that "someone else" is. And that "someone else" knows exactly what I am referring to.
But no worries, Thing. No worries. I don't intend to post it. No. A blog post wouldn't do it justice. And justice is what is needed. Meanwhile, you may want to get ready for an "arduous and painful closure to your assignment."