But you must always be asking questions of za big man upstairs, no? Liebchen, liebchen, you look very much as if you think someone else has taken your picture when you weren’t looking. But the finger on the little button is yours, my little cabbage. And that finger may just have robbed you of all hope of becoming president of your country, or the leader of some benighted church that allows women to become high officials in its ranks. Or even of any hope of getting a job anywhere more demanding than Walmart.
This, Liebchen, is what we call: CONSEQUENCES. And you’re an adult now (If you aren’t you should arrest yourself for making child pornography) and no one’s going to clean up this fine mess but you.
Your B-Dness! Always a pleasure to have you mounting the Lair for a romp (if you’ll excuse the vaguely homoerotic sound of that; I think I have to go wash my fingers will lye in expiation).
And you’re an adult now
Oh, now surely here you must be harkening back to the lessons inculcated in you back in your impressionable days in the Hitler Jugend, nicht wahr, mein Führer (in a purely spiritual and in no way National Socialistic sense, of course). You must admit that “consequences” (however capitalized) are one thing that our modern culture has made us blissful ignorant of.
(Ex cathedra, as always)
It is, of course, a high honor to have you speaking ex cathedralically here. But are you sure this lofty chair of yours isn’t located in the WC?
Humbled by your presence, as always,
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As Keyser's father used to say, "If you have to ask, I'm not going to tell you."