Ask Aunt Betsy: Tips for the Christian Shopper

Well, howdy-doody-deedle-diedle-dum! Land sakes! It has been over two long months since Aunt Betsy's last dispatch. This morning, yours truly lounges on her floral-patterned lay-zee-boy recliner with magic fingers (set on "low," as the "high" setting causes Aunt Betsy's loins to vibrate and conjures un-holy images of Dr. Phil in a jockstrap). Mishaps, calamaties and inconveniences of every stripe have plagued Aunt-Betsy-stan since a certain devil worshipping islamic terrorist negrocrat demonstrated that 53% of American voters are hell-bound.

First, you will recall that my cat snare caught Schlomo, the loathsome creature from Israel-lite (the Zionist split-level next door), and I transformed the hideous tabby into a delectable batch of cat stroganoff. Never one to waste, I also fashioned a luxurious toilet seat cozy from its hide and a darling change purse from its little kitty cat head. Well, wouldn't you know it? Little Darla Goldstein (Israel-lite's youngest citizen, already an insufferable yenta at age 7) showed up on my doorstep selling Girl Scout cookies. After grilling her over whether thin mints are kosher and shouldn't her people should be selling them at wholesale, I produced correct change from my cat-head change purse. The excitable child turned ashen, regurgitated on my freshly mopped linoleum and dashed back home.

Second, Aunt Betsy spent a long weekend in a ghastly correctional facility. Apparently Lance and Bruce (co-queens of the neighboring Ass-sex Republic) took exception when my newly installed yard cannon malfunctioned and fired fifty pounts of tar and feathers over the fence during a homosexual croquet tournament. While briefly incarcerated, I met a charming (though mannish) inmate oddly nicknamed Crisco Cathy. I found her very friendly, and immediately recruited her to our Yahtzee League. After all, we've had a vacancy since semi-finalist Lorna Butkus (a freshly lipo-sucked Episcopalean) met an untimely end when her Dodge Dart mysteriously exploded in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly (note to self: send "thank you" note to ex-brother-in-law Fingers Romano).

But enough flapdoodle! Today, as my problems overshadow your own, I shall eschew my customary advice-giving and selflessly provide valuable holiday tips for the discriminating Christian shopper.

SET A CROSS ALIGHT: Why decorate your Godly home with plastic santas and candy canes, when you can plug in this glorious inspirational electric cross which looks suspiciously familiar? Lovingly produced by the Christ-like (read: homo-hating) American Family Association, you'll be tempted to light them on  your neighbor's lawn! The Bible tells us, after all, it is more blessed to give than receive.

SUCK ON JESUS: Some Mary-worshipping Cathy-licks in the Pope-producing (and erstwhile Jew exterminating) nation of Germany have their rosaries in a twist over a harmless confection called "My Sweet Lord." It seems that an enterprising kraut woke up one day and decided what the world really wanted was a chocolate messiah (no, not Obama, silly!). Fashioning a life-sized facsimile of the baby Jesus out of chocolate (white chocolate, natch), sales have been robust. But some party poopers find it objectionable that anyone would bite off our Lord's nose/hand/foot (much less his widdle wee-wee). This, coming from a nation that gave us Armin Miewes. Aunt Betsy approves; after all shouldn't the body of Christ taste better than a stale Triscuit? 

CHRISTIAN TOYS FOR CHILDREN: Why send your babies to the sulfuric embrace of Beelzebub by purchasing a Tickle-me-Elmo (which I suspect encourages premarital hippity-dippity)? Instead, give them a Veggie-tales Queen Esther playset so they can spend hours of mirth pretending a cucumber is a whorish Jewess who denies her faith so she can pass as gentile and marry King Xerxes? What red-blooded Christian boy doesn't want to spend hours in his bedroom with muscle-bound David and Goliath action figures? Although Aunt Betsy understands why websites selling Christian toys would include a toy ATM, we do question the dubious inclusion of a revolting toy called a "groan tube." Which brings us to our next item...

CHRISTIAN TOYS FOR ADULTS: When Aunt Betsy thinks about s-e-x, it conjures memories of being bent over the hood of an El Dorado by her deceased husband Cecil behind a Shop n' Save whilst enjoying the bounties of wedded bliss during our enchanted honeymoon in dazzling Tuscaloosa. Now, thanks to a website called Book 22, Christian couples can preserve the sanctity of their marriage by purchasing Jesus-approved marital aids. Finally, a gal can shove a church-sanctioned buttplug up her man's Leviticus hole without fears of later being forced to co-mingle with sodomites in h-e-double-hockey-sticks.  

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Comments

[mongoliangirl]

I just KNEW Jesus approved of some of the marital aids Hellbilly & I prefer! What relief! Praise Yee-Haw-Way and Good Ol' Dr. Thunder hisself!

[Whup-Ass Master]

Yes, Mongoliangirl; you may now don edible panties and cram anal beads up your husband's poop chute. But a couple of homos in pasadena getting hitched, that might violate the sanctity of your marriage.

xox
WAM

[David]

Hallelujah - Jesus approved dildos and lube.

And just in time to take with me for a visit to California. Now that they are voting with their religious beliefs, I'm going out to help them with a ban on eating shrimp and lobster which the bible tells us is god-awful sinful. That pit of satan-worship, Red Lobster, must be eradicated from our christian nation.

[Static]

Aunt Betsy should light the string on her tampon, 'cause that's the only bang she's ever going to get.

[Whup-Ass Master]

@ David: Red Lobster should indeed be eradicated, but because it violates our nostrils/taste buds/eyeballs, not Leviticus.

@ Static: Wow, that almost sounds rude.

xox
WAM