I was only sixx years old. I loved BVB so much, I had all the merchandise and albums. I'd pray to Andy every night before I go to bed, thanking for the life I've been given. "Log is love", I would say, "Log is life". My dad hears me and calls me a faggot. I knew he was just jealous for my devotion of Andy. I called him a shill. He slaps me and sends me to go to sleep. I'm crying now and my face hurts. I lay in bed and it's really cold. A stench is moving towards me. I feel something touch me. It's Andy. I'm so crappy. He whispers in my ear, "I'm gonna shit down your fucking throte". He grabs me with his powerful emo hands, and puts me on my hands and knees. I spread my lips for Andy's ass. His turdcock penetrates my throtepussy. It stinks so much, but I do it for Andy. I can feel my oesophagus tearing as my eyes start to water. I push against his force. I want to relieve Andy. He farts a mighty fart, as he fills my tummy with his warm shit. My dad walks in. Andy looks him straight in the eye, and says, "Poop eat." Andy leaves through my window.
Log is love. Log is life.
Log is love. Log is life.
