Free The Seven Deadly Sins by Corey Taylor Page A

Thanagarian warrior, not because he knew who he was attracted to. There is a subtext to judgment that is hypocritical and openly selfish. If people spent more time minding their own business and less time in other people’s business the world would be having a much bigger party. These are the same people who believe gay marriage isn’t a constitutionally protected right. I bet the houses of their unions have more skeletons in their closets than brooms.
    My blood is starting to boil, but I should be careful. This is not the wrath chapter. It is all things lust, all the time on this Sirius channel. Lust is such a fun thing too—it is a real shame that people cannot just relish it for what it is. Lust is a doorway to the very heart of our heart. Lust and sex were celebrated by many cultures as the tapping we hear on the doors of our ids. Mating rituals have been a part of us since we clubbed our first cavewoman. There are nuances and delicacies that we can still learn from our inner pervert. When we turn a blind eye and numb pelvis toward our spiritual horizons, we never get to see our suns peak. That is a mother-fucking shame.
    Rest assured that nothing will be accomplished in the War of the Loins. Even if they were to legislate monogamous missionary sex by penalty of law, we as free-thinking rebellious folk would find a way to get around it. Lawmakers and judicious churchies, or Christos as I am fond of calling the uber-religious, will do their damnedest to stick their heads into our unanimous asses to see where our shit has been. But we—the few, the proud, the horny—will beat them back with the speed of our wits and the strength of our sexual resolve. This is not only the freedom we should all have but also the right we should all enjoy. The good fight starts when the bad shit happens. So bring it on—the world is waiting.

    One brutal by-product comes from hetero lust though, and it involves panic, hysterics, and peeing on blue sticks. That is absolutely correct, Harry, I am talking about babies. For those of you not in the know, babies are tiny humans who cannot feed themselves, change their own diapers, or drive themselves to the gas station. For those of you (like myself) who are all too familiar with the concept of young ones, we are very aware that babies are loud, insane creatures who barely walk and never talk but cry continuously until they are distracted. Coming as that does from a father, please make no mistake, I love my children.
    But holy shit, they will drive you to drink more.
    This goes hand in hand with lust in general. The Good Book—and by that I mean The Joy of Sex —tells us “go forth and procreate.” So lust is the lube for our child-bearing gears, the gas in our engines so to speak. It is a part of our genetic unconscious to spread our seeds across the lust-filled landscape, a postcard of fleshy reminders that we were here. Orgasms are affectionately along for the wonderful ride. Thank god for that: If all we got out of sex were children and migraines, humanity would have phased out genitalia centuries ago, along with pinky toes and that snot tunnel that takes phlegm from your nose directly into your mouth. I will never understand that piece of our anatomy.
    When did the necessary get lumped in with the ne’er do wells of our sinful never can tells? Who put the Sodom in Gomorra? Were our ancestors so fucked up that they crossed lines even ignorant, undeveloped ancient fuckers found distasteful? I mean, did ye old lust lead to sticking your cock into mountains? Were people chasing down frogs? Was mud being plunged into
with romantic fervor? These are the things the Bible conspicuously leaves out. I bet you a handful of Chili’s coupons that Jesus had a foot fetish. People are just inherently weird, man. I got to be honest; I have sucked my fair share of toes myself, and it is some of the sexiest shit on the planet. Damn, I might have to take a break and