Simba's Journal

When I was seven years old I attended a private Catholic school for gifted children. I attended a Baptist Church on Sunday and Catholic Mass on Wednesday. After being struck by a Nun for being disobedient I went home and returned to school with a steak knife.

I decided that if she believed in Jesus I was going to send her to see him a bit earlier than she had planned.

Since my parents were working overtime and sacrificed to send me to that prison of an institution, Mom tried to kill me when she found out. So I truly learned the meaning of gratitude and Thanksgiving in portions of the 23rd psalm

*ahem*
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, (and my Momma is trying to kill me) I will fear no evil:

For thou art with me; (So please God, let the beatin' be over QUICK !)

"Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." (So does hiding under the bed)

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life (Thank GOD my Daddy pulled her offa me)

"...and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever (Where ever my Dad went, I followed and hid behind him to stay safe for a loooooong time)..

AMEN!