Noctisardor Bypass i will hold this house up with my own two hands

PPSPSPSPSPPSP HERE PUPPPY????!

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: rated heheh for sexual innuendo

phaedra never could appreciate what it meant to be on top of grooming. the girl liked dirt, and making herself plain. in this way she was much like the lotus: fair and eye-catching and all, but with roots latched in mud and too willful to bloom in a more hospitable environment. 

washing up was therefore a whole-ass affair and seldom achieved on purpose.  

it was entirely unsurprising, then, that the thrifty youth currently looked a crusty sow. she was picking her way between the labyrinthal roots of the copse’ eldest trees, humming a limerick that sounded pleasant, but to listen to the verses was to utterly ruin the gemütlich of her melody.

"said the nun as the bishop withdrew,
'not bad for a bishop, it's true,
but the prick of the vicar 
is slicker and thicker, 
and two inches longer than you!'"

she'd heard it one day while eavesdropping on a group of lewd crows, and enjoyed the wordplay so much so that she'd practiced until it was betrothed to memory, innocent of understanding the obscenity. 

humming, she stopped to drink from a small pool fashioned from a natural sink in the center of one such elm, sure of herself that she wasn't encroaching on the privacy of a denning mother. 

well, she inferred this from so very little evidence, she shouldn't have been surprised by her err. revived by the cool water, phaedra turned to leave, wildly unprepared for the unlived-in face staring at her.

probably resembling an ogre of the mire or something worse, she held herself in awkward silence, staring dumbly back at the cherubim: