I bet! She asked me to get something to help it."you know, they say having sex is the best thing to get rid of a headache." I told her jokingly.I then...proceeded to go downstairs and get her some Tylenol and coffee (every college k**s drink of choice). I was gone about 15 minutes, and walked back in the room to see Sarah completely naked, and not completely sober yet (obviously). With her bloodshot bedroom eyes, she looked at me, and said: "I'll take that shit, but I want to see if your cock. I didn’t invent the Spanish language. Blame your god, since he supposedly confounded languages at Babel,” I emphasized the “supposedly” part.“My God? There’s only one God, and He’s God to us all. His name is Jesus Christ and He’s not a zombie, rigor mortis or no rigor mortis,” Gordon indicated that he recalled the incident that led to my expulsion by his wife.“Okay, your soul, but I’d rather take my chances with Hell than go to Heaven only to get my brains eaten by zombies. What a nasty. More

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