Maybe I will really make it “stick” this time, all the way, with no path for returning to the straight and narrow way, where the big zealous crowd continually strains trying to gain and hold onto first place, in this race of life where we were ALL supposed to be willing to finish together instead of “cheating” or “eliminating the competition” or anything else that spells concision. Can eny of ewe you evin spel consizhyun, or do you fully understand/care/know (fu/c/k)what it means, hunny? mercy buckets? No?
How odd, when we were told (by listening, we knew) to keep things even, and some still want to be first or win the battle or be the hero or CONQUER THE WORLD as if it were possible to do those things in anything more than a grown-up childish fashion of selfish obstinate manifest blessing harvests. Some of us (many) act in ways that make it seem as if once we’ve accepted Christ and actually begun to “follow” him after taking up our personal cross (provided we even know what it is), there will automatically be a powerful and mystical magical blessing attached to anything and everything we do. We will no longer be sinners, after we have been “converted” into something new and “undefiled” in spiritual terms (terms we have had to understand, just to discuss “spirit” as more than a concept).
Nice idea. Doesn’t work at all for most folks. They still want to come in at FIRST PLACE by being the one who knows the most, has the biggest tits, has more money, more friends, more influece, more boyfriends, more girlfriends, more problems, more support people in their prayer chain, and you-name-it vanity bones that they like to pull out naked and march around proudly in front of everyone else just to get applause.
Go to it, each and every one of you, as God’s own chosen and blessed people. Pull out those lovely self-styled man-bones of yours, get them all polished and painted, those lovely bones of yours that nobody should be picking at to find fault, and run around naked, now that you’ve found the LORD and can no longer sin. Now you can have all the fun, sex, money, booze, pills, cars, guns, lawyers, and victories you ever dreamed of as a little girls. And all of the “practice French kissing” that you and your girlfriends used to do for “warming up” to the day when you’d get porked by Prince Charming (pinch arming?) so that you’ll know just how to get HIS ROCKS OFF and be a real woman. Best part is: from now on, you do NOT make mistakes. Everything you do is explained as faultless and “for Him” and you can just do whatever your little heart desired. Adult childhood is yours. What you absolutely need to make it be grown up is MONEY, so pay yourself by becoming self-employed. Now you will be a rich man, baby.
Only problem with that was, you fell in love with your girlfriend as a girl, or your boyfriend as a boy, and now her hot juicy nookie (or his precise counterpart) has you hooked on “love” which is more like “liquid love” and you actually NEED IT NOW. That must really be miserable, if every much-needed orgasm also fills you with incurable guilt and the realization that women do not need men, expect for that little bit of spit. But you know that “society is biased against homosexuality and it’s not fair!” so it would be something you’d have to be sneaky about. Girl-girl could get you in trouble with people, but surely not with God, since he made you that way, and your faults are all good ones.
(We have MANY examples of this so-called platonic girl-love, so my finger points at nobody in particular. Some of my daughter’s friends say I have no right to criticize lesbians. Hail, Mary! If you think I would criticize lesbians, you must be one. I wouldn’t criticize lesbians, if they were not licking each others’ crotch wounds. So I am not, if they aren’t. If you think saying Hail, Mary! is unfairly criticizing anyone good or innocent, that’s your problem. You need to get something to wake up that snot in your noggin.)
No shit, Sherlock. We’ve know this for centuries. That’s why Alexander had no use for women at all (they are far too delicate, and break when you force your meat pole into them) highly prefered fucking the tight adolescent boys’ asses so much more than any bloody cunt (abc), and why he was almost King but did not want to be a real father to anyone. He had to face way too many battles that obviously had his “name on them” to be tied down to a family (he liked to tie you down, though!). Even so, without the family to burden him, like the burden of the Lord, he was nonetheless a true pillar of society, like the ones we have now. By contrast, we’ve got one such pillar and captain of industry right up here in Portland (I’m not in Portland so I just lied again, deliberately), in our own gay brewmaster, that loveliest of newly revived and faked patriots, Sam Adams. Hail and Bravo! for Sam and espedially his sweet and precisous love for his fellow man (not sure of the name currently, it may change if Sam is not pleased), especially in that hightly prized Black Angus category. We can easily see that if G is for Galen, and you simply plug me into your Anus, Sammy Sugar (ASS) and I can make our own anGus burger. How I wish I were black, so you’d really feel exotic, Sam, my love. (squirt i love long yanks silly)
Just remember that Jesus is King, and he wants ALL of your children, all to himself, so that he can apply his perfect rod of correcting, kindly, rock. It will contain the milk of human kindness, flowing freely.
He’ll rock your world, right down to its completely brownest of roots. He is truly your non-stop lover and you’ll never want to put Him down, by God!
Obviously, from what we’ve built ourselves (sperm banks) it was never God’s wish for men and women to actually participate directely in the birth process. Always it was His desire to allow us to use the rocks and sticks to make babies with, instead of with Him. That is what He always wanted us to do: replace ourselves with machinery.
Again, no shit, Sherlock. Only a dunce would think otherwise. Ancient Birth Control Desired Explanations Finding God Hates Issac Just Killed Love Mostly ABCDEFGHIJKLM… I forgot how it went now, Damn me all to HELLLLLLL!!! I’m never gonna finish that one perfect sentence, to punish myself. Or, I will if I keep trying. So I will…
Jesus Christ, I am deeply seated in such lovely, everlasting pain now, and it has taken more than just a few years to refine this best talent of mine (not dying from chronic excruciating pain) given to me by my Father (which art in Heaven…), and it clearly remains my best feature (tolerance) of all. This much I know. Thank you, God, for everything. Your son loves me. Now I can be happy forever, with Him, and in Him. I’m such a shit, though. Go ahead, Jesus, pinch off this loaf named Galen and drop the stink-bomb into the porcelain bowl. This is the morning to clean up the dirt, finally. Me.
It is mainly constitutional. I am mainly unconstitutional.