*CENSORED* Hell. Another dream. I was in an old school vintage arcade playing Mr Do with David Hasslehoff and Leonard Nimoy. (I think I was drinking Dekuypers Spearmint Schnapps out of a Pepsi cup, but it could have just as easily been Peach. Im not sure the relevance.)
Anyway
Out of the corner of my eye I could see a whole pack of former Emo/Rap Metal Douchebags handing out God pamphlets to innocent bystanders and supposed sinners minding their own business. And there it was again. That heavenly scent. You know. The Holy Colon? I looked around but couldnt see any evidence of a divine entry, So I just assumed one of my companions dropped an SBD. But when I looked back at the screen, there HE was. My game was replaced by a golden shower of light, bathing in all its heavenly glory, my whole face. Then the holy Rumble, the holy giggle, and poof he was gone, taking my high score with him. But leaving behind another 3M sticky note. This time it was powder blue. I think. It said
"Be not overcome of the tongue of hypocrisy spewed forth by the *CENSORED* of evil, but overcome evil with a good smack on the *CENSORED* face. Verily I say unto thee, that should that *CENSORED* turn a cheek, smite him there as well, saying unto him, "Look, fatty, we've been through this already. Save your born again speeches for your sour milk butt foot urine smelling dread locked barnyard buddies. Those sheep are buying. We ain't. Amen. Now, *CENSORED* off." *CENSORED* 23 skidoo.
"P.S. By the way. My name isn't actually GOD. It's BOB. There was a bit of a SNAFU a few thousand years and several prophets back. The angel that was delivering the "WORD" back then had an eating disorder and drooled all over the sticky note. I've been trying, with no success, to fix that ever since. These talkin monkeys are a tough crowd. Thick skulls. After a while I just gave up."
Anyway
Out of the corner of my eye I could see a whole pack of former Emo/Rap Metal Douchebags handing out God pamphlets to innocent bystanders and supposed sinners minding their own business. And there it was again. That heavenly scent. You know. The Holy Colon? I looked around but couldnt see any evidence of a divine entry, So I just assumed one of my companions dropped an SBD. But when I looked back at the screen, there HE was. My game was replaced by a golden shower of light, bathing in all its heavenly glory, my whole face. Then the holy Rumble, the holy giggle, and poof he was gone, taking my high score with him. But leaving behind another 3M sticky note. This time it was powder blue. I think. It said
"Be not overcome of the tongue of hypocrisy spewed forth by the *CENSORED* of evil, but overcome evil with a good smack on the *CENSORED* face. Verily I say unto thee, that should that *CENSORED* turn a cheek, smite him there as well, saying unto him, "Look, fatty, we've been through this already. Save your born again speeches for your sour milk butt foot urine smelling dread locked barnyard buddies. Those sheep are buying. We ain't. Amen. Now, *CENSORED* off." *CENSORED* 23 skidoo.
"P.S. By the way. My name isn't actually GOD. It's BOB. There was a bit of a SNAFU a few thousand years and several prophets back. The angel that was delivering the "WORD" back then had an eating disorder and drooled all over the sticky note. I've been trying, with no success, to fix that ever since. These talkin monkeys are a tough crowd. Thick skulls. After a while I just gave up."