Chapter 2

It has been said "Bird who fly upside down,have dirty crack-up".
This mirthful,frontal lobe platitude was one of a regular rotation
of semi-bawdy philosophical tidbits to spew like dyslexic alphabet
soup from my Father's mouth.

It was upon this wizened foundation that I, with abandon, lay the
first bricks and mortar of my own hillariously subjective house of worship.