My mommy had a bad habit of not paying attention to what was going on when she left me at the playground. She would always been too busy turning tricks and hooking for dope to really care what trouble I might get into. I was super small, barely had really started being able to talk clearly and had been left to mind my own in the sandbox. A really nice older man walked up to me and said he was my Daddy. I had never met my Daddy so I had no real idea if he was telling the truth or if this was a fib. I happily totted off, especially once he explained that Mommy had said it was okay. Daddy took good care of me, especially once he started realizing how helpful I could be for obtaining his favorite kind of meat- human. It’s funny how quickly people trust a young girl. They are quick to help me “find Daddy” and they surely regret it once we do locate him. Daddy covers their mouth and it puts them to sleep- then when they wake up they are in our bathtub at home- some how completely paralyzed while Daddy & I clean their flesh. When they wake up, they are in an oven being roasted alive! I’ve noticed lately Daddy has been really encouraging me to eat more and more- you don’t think he might be thinking about making “Kali Stew” do you?
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