|-I love my gun. He`s like my ex-husband. He does all the dirty work and|
I`m not telling you the rest. Not even close.
The thief Christine talks about is not a regular thief, he`s a violent motherf@#ker with 6 armed robberies on his tab and 40 murders plus minus. You really never know who kills who in those shootouts.
-He made so much noise entering the house I though Godzilla was trying to get in. I remember I wished for it to be Sandy. I knew I could deal with a storm breaking my house, but not a human. You see bad blood runs through my family.
-I`m brought up hyper religious to stay out of violence. It`s the only way. Cause people like me kill for fun, when we smell blood heavens gate closes.
-When the thief got in I took my family out the back door and closed all the exits. I took the Van and drove to the nearest gun shop and got the heaviest peace of shit my $2000 credit limit allowed.
-Needless to say the thief never got out of the house. Not alive.
-But it was too late for me to go back living there again. I had trouble enough explaining the judge why I put 6000 bullets in Mr thief`s head. The army was my only option. That or drugs. I choose the first and got the better of the two.
-Two months have gone by and I have killed hundreds in the Jutango desert. None of the other soldiers dare talk to me. We comunicate through radio only. They get me. My family didn`t. They always thought I joked when I said heaven is hell on earth.