Glory! Happy end-of-summer, God-Beaters! I don't know about you, but I'm pooped! The Peducah Praise Singers (the all-girl gospel choir with which I sing second mezzo-soprano), just completed a marathon, two-day concert at the spectacular "Healthcare is for Homos" Labor Day Picnic and Bible raffle in the outskirts of gorgeous Tuscaloosa. Everything went smoothly, except for that awkward moment when Fanny-Sue Butz started speaking in tongues during the second encore of our newest single "Jesus Is a Teabagger." Fanny-Sue's eyes rolled back in her head and she started flopping about on the band stand like a catfish as the Holy Spirit supposedly spoke through her. I say "supposedly," because I instantly recognized her gibberish as the theme song to Petticoat Junction in pig latin. I know from experience that Fanny-Sue Butz is
an obnoxious attention-whore a lovely woman who enjoys the spotlight. Who can forget when we went to see "The King and I" at the Clap n' Chow Dinner Theatre and they stared singing "Shall We Dance?" We were all slightly taken aback when Fanny-Sue climbed up on stage and tried to cut in. In her defense, she had downed thirteen sloe gin fizzes. On the bright side, the Peducah Praise Singer's single "Christ Loves a Fetus" has shot up to the number eight spot on the Pentecostal Hit List! Praise!
In ferret news, you'll remember that my latest critter Baroness Betty Bounce-a-lot tragically expired in a bathtub electrocution mishap while in the care of my beloved Aunt Betsy (an advice columnist in Headcheese Oklahoma). That makes three of my ferrets to have been sent home to Jesus over the last year (Lady Hildegarde Hoparound was decapitated by a leaf blower and Lord Skippy Scamperpants caught fire and hid under the gas tank of Trudy Plank's Buick Skylark, causing a spectacular explosion). So I decided that The Lord's plans for Jeannie Bladdersham do not include ferret ownership. However, if you recall, Millicent Stump (our choir's coloratura) was conscripted by Somali Pirates during our command performance at Mogadishu's dazzling Allah Akbar Soccer Field and Wife-Stoning Arena. And as it turns out, Millicent's ferret Princess Penelope Prancy-puss needed a new home. She's a joy, but I had to put her in her quiet time cage for shredding my "Fetuses are People Too" throw pillow.
But let's dispense with that flapdoodle and get to the God News! Glory!!
- When godly South Carolina governor Mark Sanford took a wrong turn on the Appalachian Trail and ended up in the arms of a raven haired Argentinian succubus, there were those who believed he was going about honoring the sanctity of his marriage the hard way. This caused tasseled loafer wearing Lieutenant Governor Andre Bauer to call for his resignation. Since then, professional gaydar operator/blogger-for-Satan Mike Rogers has rudely suggested that what Mr. Bauer really wants is to hop astride the governorship like a sweaty stallion so he can turn the governor's mansion into a den of mansex, disco music, and Project Runway parties. So now Mr. Bauer (the most sensitive-looking homo-condemner since Ted Haggard) has launched a whirlwind "Don't Call Me A Pansy Or I'll Scratch Your Eyes Out" publicity tour and press junket to accuse Governor Sanford of masterminding those dastardly fibs. Because as we learned from the Republicans when Clinton was being impeached for mistaking a zaftig Jewess' shame hole for a humidor, Jesus cries when our politicians fib about carnal oopsies.
- In Sudan, a lovely nation where folks ride camels through villages so they can get stabby and rape-y with folks who rudely insist on breathing, Lubna Hussein was recently sprung from jail after having been arrested and sentenced to 40 lashes for wearing pants. Because in the hell-bound "religion" of Ismuslimism, it's a sin for a gal to sashay hither and yon wearing something that can't be tossed over her head for convenient raping. Of course, gals who get raped also typically get 40 lashes for being in the company of strange men, but that's neither here nor there. If you're a Sudanese female, you must wear a dress. Just like the men.
- Greg and JaLea Swezey, members of the Church of the First Born, are avid practitioners of faith healing. So when their 17-year-old son Zachery fell ill of a tummy ache, they prayed. Then Zachery got worse and they prayed some more. Suddenly, something occurred to Greg and JaLea (who really ought to change her name to something Jesus recognizes as remotely Christian so he doesn't ignore her in the future). Their son was acting all blue and deadish. Zachery actually had a burst appendix. Natch, this has led to Lucifer-worshiping "Doctor" types to condemn faith healers. But as we all learned from Peter Pan, if you don't clap hard enough, Tinkerbell dies.
- Today, the President of the United States/servant of Beelzebub Barack Hussein Jihad Taliban Ass-sex Stalin Obama made our teachers dismiss their students from their studies so he could tell them not to let anything distract them from their studies. Of course, most godly parents excused their lil' angels from attending, as the text of his speech clearly contains subliminal indoctrinations into sordid concepts like anal penetration and socialized medicine. Although this thinly-veiled "fist bump" exposed millions of youngsters to horrific concepts like personal responsibility and hard work, one hardly expects to hear the word "fist" and "our children" in the same sentence. Not at school anyway. That sort of thing belongs in our churches. Glory!
Greg and JaLea Swezy say: "If we pray hard enough, maybe everyone will subscribe to this blog's feed."