Let me just say that my great grandmother was a Voodoo preistess. My family is both thrilled with the folk lore and sad at how silly the damb woman was. As a child I had a great deal of powder and chicken bones sprinkled about my head.
Which brings me to my secret santa gift. I think I love it. My girl will not let me bring it in the house. And my great grandmother would most likely eat it. It’s a baby head with some skin missing and a couple of nailes and things stikin in its face and some bugs hanging around its hair in a jar with some god knows what kind of blue gunk smeared all over it.
I know, the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the description is Christmas. You think sipping wine by a fireplace watching the snow fall. The only problem is (and this is acording to the great gammashamhane grandma Link) it either meanes you like me or ten thousand little pigmees are gonna come and tear my eyes out of my sockets and drink my urine then spit it back all over me.
So anyhow I think I want to say thanks, but maybe I should wait to find out if you are freind or foe first.
thanks love randy