To rub salt into the wound, Abdul was given a funeral service at St. Patrick's Cathedral.

I had made sure to fill up a little bottle with some vegetable glycerine labeled 'Billy Graham Holy Oil.'

I knew this would get the mostly Chinese Christians going.

I had also put on a Franciscan robe.

I wanted to look holier-than-thou.

Since I was giving the service, I'd be the one anointing the congregation with the holy oil.

I know that Asians take their religion seriously, and if Java was anything to go by, I'd have hot little Christians more than happy to go back to my hotel room for a personal blessing of their own.

I don't know why, but it was usually the little nymphs who would take the anointment very seriously.

They lived troubled lives, conflicts between the flesh and god and liked nothing more than to repent by being under the influence of the holy ghost.

They could whip themselves into a trance frenzy.

And if they were on the end of your cock, it could translate as a divine experience. 

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