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As the end of the world nears, August 15, 2009, it is getting harder and harder to believe that a god would would send his son into the world to preach the serial killer gospel to the sinners in Las Vegas. What kind of fuck-wad god is this Jehovah? anyway. How fucking stupid can a God be. This has to be a BIG CASINO operation. But, what is the God the mighty point? I keep asking myself. I can deal with a Texas Tornado God (hurricane), a top of the music charts god, but a serial killer magic show god--a god who kills your mother with a serial killer doctor show, a god who steals your mother's money from two security accounts: TD Ameritrade and Wachovia Securities.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I a talking about a god that makes Ted Bundy look like a saint in the Hall of Murder Fame. It has been the life of Job for me, and I have had a few doubt about my string of bad luck, but this is the fucking god of the universe that the world is dealing with, not the son of God on my back. Mothers would not sleep at night knowing that there is an anal Criss Angel in bed with their children at night. The Big Fucker has come into the world to proclaim that God the Buddha, God the Christian Saint is a lie and a sham. Welcome to the sewer mind of God. I did not bring God into the world. I am not responsible for the death of Criss Angel, Paris Hilton, or all of those other celebrities running around wearing no panties and a big prize on the shelf. This is not my religion. I am not responsible for the serial killer acts of an insane God. If the Pope could get his hands on Jehovah, he would hit it over the head with a shovel and put it out of its misery. He is an animal, a beast, a monster, and he has it all sewn together as a Serial Killer Magic Act in Las Vegas called " Believe." It makes you puke to believe that Jehovah was given a stage in the United States and is now posing as a Jacko Whacko son of God. If this was Lucifer or Satan, the door would be shut eventually on them and all of the soccer moms in the sane world would go home happy when their team won. Now they are all serving tea as mad cows at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
Good Grief, Charlie Brown!
