You partake of the feel-good diets and then you wonder why you're obese and the flatulent. You fund for the gorillas and tigers and the fitness experts alike. You adore the paid models and are glued to the many Mary Truce, commercials. You covet the doll-like images and the malingered and anorexic model and believe the size seven model is fat. You're into sex and the plagues of the dirty, you only want to feel good and wallow in the filth and the growth on hers, and then you fall over laughing and crying at her looks. We only care about your firm breasts, and the horny men are proud, even though they catch and spread the herpes. Do you know of her ablutions and the laws of Protestants and Catholics and the Anglicans? Do you seek me, your father, and does it meet with your approval? Can I doubt the liars and the cheaters, and you young ladies who think nothing of committing adultery and idolatry and behave with promiscuous deeds and lovers?