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Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave God picked me to be his punching bag...so who am I suposed to pray to for mercy? - Quote by S.L.J. Shortt

God picked me to be his punching bag…so who am I suposed to pray to for mercy?

S.L.J. Shortt
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So, what's the story?""No story. Just a nightmare.”“Meaning?”“Meaning, heavy compression lines in his cartilage, severe bruising on his kidneys, liver and lower intestines. Fracture marks on his collar bone, tibia, radius, humerus, scapular, femur and every single one of his ribs have been broken. Don't even get me started on the concussive damage to his skull and brain tissue. Twenty-three percent of this boys body is scared for life. And yet, every organ is functioning normally and his neurological activity is above average. He's eighteen years old and he weights about two bills but remove the scar tissue and he'd weigh about a buck-ten. All in all, I say he lived inside a hydraulic car press, went through the Napoleonic wars and was on board the Hindenburg when it went down in flame and yet he's okay...this boy just refuses to die.
S.L.J. Shortt
Well, what do you want me to do? Head butt my way through a few inches of steel?!” she snarled.“Well, that would certainly earn you a cookie!
S.L.J. Shortt
Happy endings are for people that can't survive the alternative. What a bunch of wimps.
S.L.J. Shortt
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