Ha. No, it never was. But, the day that this picture was taken was a rather lovely day. I wish I was then, because today I lost my keys, and tracked them the fuck down in the middle of the snow/gravel/slush-covered sidewalk. Don't get me wrong. I am very happy I found them. But back when this picture was taken, I'd never thought I'd entertain thoughts of St. Zita, the patron saint of lost keys.
It's not so much that I don't want to think about St. Zita, but that in searching a list of patronages, I found that:
Clotilde (what a fucking name)
Louise de Marillac
Matilda
and
Monica
are the patron saints of disappointing children.
THIS EXEMPLIFIES EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD AND MAKES ME HATE PEOPLE. herregud.
please, let me go back to the day from the picture above, where sour-ass perverts and biontches hadn't corrupted my brain with the knowledge that there are patron saints of "disappointing children."
Usch, usch, usch.
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