Sunday, 28 September 2008
I did you service yesterday. There were two evangelists on the bus. They said they were spreading your message. I seriously doubted whether they really knew anything genuine about you but I took their word for it. But then they started talking about that "hell place" again, saying they were doing us a favour by blessing our souls should our bus crash the moment they were forced to get off the bus without preaching. It seemed that they were holding onto this book that was conceitedly self-titled. They claimed that you wrote the words there. But I doubt you did. In my heart, I would like to believe that you can write better fiction than that.
They promised us they would not be asking for money. Just plain preaching. Just some good old "you're going to rot in the afterlife for thinking for yourself and not trusting the KJV". But the retards asked for money anyway. So I told that they were lying sacks of shit for deceiving us like that. All those years of English politeness and restraint turned into Irish rage.
But it was fun. It felt good standing up to them. Jesus, please send me more of them. Next time I promise to be more polite and less hot headed and ask real questions such as "Do you understand what you are talking about?"
Your thinking fan, not your blind groupie,