No explanation necessary - from Orlando Weekly.
As we march down Pennsylvania Avenue, the Christian anti-abortion front get more obnoxious, and thus better protected by barricades and cops. The marchers angrily chant "Pro-life, that's a lie! You don't care if women die!" I glance over at Jennifer, and she looks madder than a wet hen. She's abandoned the group chant and is screaming, "Go to hell and burn your Bibles!" So much for Zen and meditation.
As we pass a group of clergymen holding signs that say, "What about the BABY'S life?" I yell, "What about my life?" One of the men tries to touch me and cries out, "Jesus loves you anyway! Even though you support killing babies, Jesus loves you!" That does it. I put my middle finger up an inch away from his face and scream, "Fuck you!"
Immediately afterwards, a row of about a dozen Catholic priests are lined up, silently passing judgment on all of us sinners. The marchers around me go nuts. Everyone starts yelling about pedophiles and the Pope being an irrelevant old fart. A few of the priests smirk, which makes me ornery as hell. I point at each of them and yell, "Pedophiles! Child molesters! Rapists of young boys! Burn in hell, you motherfuckers!" That's right, I told a bunch of priests to burn in hell. I've dreamt of this day ever since I was a disillusioned 15-year-old Catholic schoolgirl. My catharsis is off the charts.