Religious Message

                                Lord Yackerboom of Woolloomooloo

Hear ye the words of Our Lord as written in the Holy Dribble

“And it came to pass that He went from that place unto another place, looking for the Holy Harlots of Antioch for a little bit of frivolity, and entered He an inn where the men dressed as ladies, wearing pantsuits like unto Our Lady Hellary.  Blessed be the name Hellary.

For it is written that Our Lady Hellary, piss be upon her, will seek to enter the office of ovalness wherein her husband gave piccolo lessons unto the maidens. And it is also written that she shall smite Her foe, Saint Trump of Donald, piss be upon him, patron saint of turban wearers.  Blessed be the Holy Comb-over.  Unless he smiteth Her first, in which case there will be much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments, and pantsuits shalt be cast unto the four winds.

And, lo, it came to pass that Saint Trump of Donald, piss be upon him, cast down Our Lady, piss be upon her, crying ‘get thee to a nunnery, thou no-fly zoner’.

After a meanwwhilst, Our Lord, piss be upon him, went from that place unto yet another place, where he heard great wailing and moaning and many naughty words.  And he didst see warmongers and neocons what are called neocons throwing themselves on the ground and calling for their mothers and lamenting.  'Who shalt we kill now, Our Lady of the no-fly zone has been cast down.  Wilt no one help us pick a fight with them Ruskies?’ And Our Lord built a great wall around them, and maketh them pay for it.

Yea, verily, and forsooth, the work of a False God is never done. For, lo, it came to pass that Our  Lord, piss be upon him, after considering the lilies as didst Brian of Nazareth, and, for that matter, Brian of Brett, went unto the land of Pentagonia, where everybody dresseth the same, thought the same, and between them amassed many millions of cubits of metal that they gave each other as medals for going to the toilet, getting a haircut, getting a tan, and other risky pursuits. And the people saw Our Lord, piss be upon him, and rent their nice uniforms, and gnashed their teeth until their medals did rattle, and cast their helmets upon the ground, crying out ‘Saint Trump of Donald, piss be upon him, may send us all to peace, and force us to get proper jobs.  O woe is upon us all’.  And Our Lord, piss be upon him, gave each one a gift, a graven image of Dickless Chay-Knee, and sent them away to stand in the corner.

And Our Lord, piss be upon him, was thirsty, and came He upon a large pond, and He turneth the water into beer, for He is no wine drinking poseur.  And in an instant, the pond was crawling with Apostles, who always knoweth when beer floweth.  And he turneth camel dung into salted peanuts, and declared a Holy Pissup and invited everyone, even his enemies, to join in.  Except for ur-Lord Bolton what is called Notlob, for Our Lord, piss be upon him, as false as he may be, still has his standards.

As it is written, so shalt it be.  Possibly.

Here endeth the lesson.

We will now take up a collection.


The white bits belong to Lord Yackerboom, piss be upon him.

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Next time your boyfriend wants head, use a damn condom!

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           Rats, I put all my money on Hellary Rodem Cliton

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             Will nobody rid me of these meddlesome Cathars?

© Brian Brett 2016