I really was on a blogging break, enjoying my leisure time eating bon bons and painting my toenails out by the cee-ment pond in an undisclosed tropical location, but something this important demands immediate action and vigilance.
Simply put, this is pretty much the most batshit crazy thing I’ve seen in a while.
My local interstate, IH-35, appears to have been discovered to lie at the heart of some vast nexus of vigilante holiness. Leaving many of us living here in the corridor crying out, “Where, oh where, is Dr. Thompson when we need him?”
In his stead, respected cultural anthropologist Pink Lady:
The faithful are holding demonstrations, called “purity sieges,” outside of strip clubs and gay bars polluting our feeder roads. In Dallas, a former homosexual named James Stabile was converted at a siege, when a pastor screamed “Fire!” at him, miraculously taking away his homosexuality and turning him into a United States Senator.
“I didn’t feel the desires to be with men like I had before,” Stabile said. “But just to be safe, from now on I’m taking Mopac.”
I must say, I have been considering new career paths, and Prophetic Intercessor seems like a cushy gig. Wonder how much something like that pays?
I love how Pat is snickering at the end, like even he is thinking, “Can you believe this shit?”
Filed under: Nutjobs |