I put all the children's books in the paper recycling, the playdoh down the garbage disposal, and wallpaper the nursery with scenes from the Hoop-Earring Slugfest Bloody Mountaintop Girls Magazine. Feels so good to get a deal these days--I don't even care what I'm subscribing to. I want to fill my home with faith and worship, not for anything in particular, just something small and easily concealed. My husband asks: How long before I complain to the publisher when the scenes of graphic violence fail to fit into my home decorum? I tell him to die. I want a new life every time I open a magazine.