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Tomorrow I will toast MLK’s love of beating up teenaged hookers when the bill comes. I will be eternally grateful that the un-diverse boulevard in Houston that bears his name has twice now harbored the stripped husks of two cars that were stolen from me in the 90’s. His spirit watched over the chassis and lent a bit of his strength to the supporting cinder blocks.

You know it's bad when they don't show the whole thing.

I can't make heads nor tails of it. Looks like hands coming from their asses.

Body horror is what.

i see... a poopy getting hugged by disembodied arms...