My second hand had risen, slipped quickly back to the covered breast.Now I properly mauled my own parent - her hips beginning to move, thrusting forwa...d in the stool, into my hand. She was gasping loudly and saying my name as a whimper again and again.Then, as suddenly as I had started, my hand removed itself from between mothers shapely soft legs and back up to her breast. She was getting really worked up and quickly, knees wide and continually humping the air as my hands mauled her chest. My. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.St. FRANCIS: It’s the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers ‘weeds’ and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.GOD: Grass? But, it’s so boring. It’s not colorful. It doesn’t attract butterflies, birds, and bees; only grubs and sod. More

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