Hello, hello, hello! Hell-bound agents of Lucifer among you might say "Thank God it's Friday," as if we are disobliged to thank God for Tuesday. Who told you not to praise Yahweh for Thursday? Besides, the platitude "TGIF" has been annexed by the devil since it became a place to enjoy fried cheese sticks and patty melts served by suspiciously extroverted waitresses.
Besides, today is Friday the 13th, which I hear is like Christmas for Wiccans. It's also the title of a lovely movie about a shy hockey enthusiast and cutlery aficionado who does God's work by teaching a group of hyper-sexed teenagers what Jesus wants to do to youngsters who don't save themselves for marriage.
Those among you who believe that Friday the 13th is unlucky are absolutely right; believing in non-biblical superstitions consigns your souls to the bosom of Lucifer, and you can't get any unluckier than that! For my part, today has been anything but unlucky. First, Trudy Plank (alto soloist with the Peducah Praise Singers, the all-girl inspirational choir with whom I'm currently enjoying a meteoric ascent to stardom) stopped by to inform me that our single "Ride Me Home, Jesus" has soared up to #15 on the Pentecostal Hit List, surpassing even our break-through single "The Devil is a Homosexual."
Unfortunately, Trudy's Aunt Flo was visiting which threw my excitable pet ferret Lord Skippy Scamperpants into a tizzy. He scurried up her thigh and tried to burrow in her sin hole. Trudy screamed and tossed Skippy into the fireplace. Skippy caught fire, jumped through my picture window and hid under the gas tank of Trudy's Buick Skylark, which promptly exploded sending shrapnel into Trudy's ample buttocks. Although I'm saddened by the passing of my second ferret in four months (RIP, Lady Hildegarde Hoparound), Trudy's survival combined with the fact that I escaped injury entirely proves it's a lucky day!
And it's your lucky day too, because it's another episode of God Beat! Praise!
- The other day in Devon England an old biddy named Jill Wade awoke to discover that the horned one himself had been prancing around her house overnight, leaving his devil tracks in the snow. Although Beelzebub had done this once before (154 years ago), the meaning is inescapable: Ms. Wade is shortly bound for eternal damnation where she'll roast in a fiery pit whilst being sodomized by demons. Joy!
- Waterlogged hedonist Michael Phelps appeared on the Today show this morning to kick off the next leg of his "Smoking Devil Reefer Cost Me Lucrative Sponsorship Deals And Now My Malformed Face Won't Terrify Children as They Try to Eat Their Cornflakes" tour. Mr. Phelps will eventually learn that smoking devil reefer will also earn him a spot right next to Jill Wade, where he'll be anally abused by the Goat God through the end of time. Praise!
- When our negro president Barack Hussein Bin Laden Mohammad Jihad Obama reversed Bush's fatwa against stem cell research, he signed the death warrant for millions of frozen fetuses to enable Michael J. Fox to commence filming Teen Wolf IV. Hallelujah!
- A nice young man echoed most Baptists' feelings toward the more permissive denominations when he got naked, climbed the cross high atop the West Central Presbyterian Church and pooped on it. Amen!
- Hallmark is a company that makes lovely greeting cards and produces television specials in which failed sitcom actors star as retards and cripples. And now that they've introduced a series of homo wedding cards, they embrace El Diablo and poop on the crosses of our hearts. Add Hallmark to the pile of companies (Ford, Disney, McDonald's, etc) that godly folks must boycott. Unless Meredith Baxter plays a retarded gimp on the Hall of Fame. Praise!
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