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the last time i saw jesus christ he was upstairs in a meth house, wearing a my little pony vest, drinking his own santorum as his john laughed hysterically and threw him a crumpled bill.
i told him "girl we got to get you up on yo' feet", i offered to help him out, give him a place to dry out. i told him he should get clean and start practicing his make-up again and see if he can't get a job. he robbed me of some cash and a stereo and i never saw him again. last i heard he was found frozen to death under the motorway, inside a mouldy sleeping bag, still clutching his meth pipe.
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