I can hear you walking around my office. Please take off your shoes. Those are Ottoman-era kilim rugs.
Do we have an appointment? I usually don’t see people before the Sunday morning service—unless they’re turning in membership dues.
Tell you what, whoever you are, I’ll meet with you for a few minutes if you get me some TP out of the C.S. Lewis replica wardrobe over against the wall. I’m out—and a little indisposed at the moment. Anyway, there should be a stack of rolls behind the fur coats.
Let’s go with one of the Minor Prophet rolls. I’m telling you: no easier way to memorize your Malachi and your Haggai than with Angel Soft’s new Balaam’s Ass Bible Verse Toilet Tissue!
Also, I always use my time on the throne to catch up on fan mail. It’s good business to reply quickly to letters from potential investors—I mean parishioners.
This letter’s a doozy. Why don’t you come in so I can read it to you? Don’t worry, this is an executive bathroom; I’ve got a separate toilet stall. And I’ve got frankincense burning in the censer; you won’t smell a thing.
Here, have a listen:
Dear Pastor P.:
You are the only person of authority I can think of to posit this question regarding the red-meat remarks Bobby Jindal made to the Faith and Freedom Coalition last Saturday night. IYHO, is he right when he says that we Progressives are wrong to be intolerant of Fundie intolerance?
Guilt Ridden in Grass Valley
Interesting, very interesting. Well, for starters, I was sitting in that room when General—I mean Governor Jindal said: “I can sense right now a rebellion brewing amongst these United States, where people are ready for a hostile takeover of Washington, D.C., to preserve the American Dream for our children and grandchildren.”
We gave him a standing ovation. A couple of Georgia preachers even fired their AR-15s into the air. I don’t think the convention center appreciated that very much—crystal chandeliers and all.
Truth be told, I’m a little confused. What does this person mean by “we Progressives”? Surely the writer hasn’t confused me for one of those Glory Holy critical-thinking turds down the street from Cubic Zirconia Cathedral Ministries! (Sorry, no pun intended.)
Well, what do you think? Gosh, you’re quiet. By the way, I still need that TP.
You know, I can see your feet under the stall. I thought I asked you to remove your shoes. I can see your sandals. And what’s with the white tunic? Dang, your feet are dusty—say, are those holes in your feet?! Geez, Louise, you should get those looked at. I can recommend a great podiatrist.
While you’re fetching the TP, would you mind grabbing a pen and some paper, too? I could use an amanuensis to dictate my response.
Dear Guilt Ridden in Grass Valley:
Well, it’s pretty easy to identify the source of your guilt, given that you identify with the so-called “progressive movement.” You know who else was progressive? The citizens of Sodom. In fact, they were so progressive that for centuries we named an illicit act after them—one for which God Himself minimizes his own Omnipresence just so he doesn’t have to see it.
By the way, I should let you hop on this toilet when I’m done, just so you can experience the warm rinse feature. I’m telling you, I was so blessed by God to be one of the last people to snag a Kohler Purist Hatbox toilet. And don’t tell anyone, but I actually got three of them—one for here, one for my home master bath, and one to install in my hunting tree stand. I know, $4,100 is a lot for a single crapper, but I’m telling you, it’s like sitting on a pile of angel wings.
Anyway, back to that letter:
I know Governor Jindal is an Indian or from wherever it is that they worship elephants and monkeys on the other side of the planet, but I’ve come to believe that even God can love someone who looks more or less like me but has darker skin. Someone in our parish even told me it’s okay to call him a Caucasian—can you believe that?
So if you want my advice, I suggest you plug your soul back into a Three-Prong Trinity outlet and sign up for our weekly Sunday morning service podcasts. Subscriptions begin as low as $24.99 per week.
Yours in Holy Ghost Prosperity,
There, that should do it. Hey, still waiting on that TP, by the way. You there? You know, I have to give my sermon in about 30 minutes. Hello? Hello?!
Well, darnit, guess I’ll just have to use a few hymnal pages instead.
Please turn to No. 1973.
I’m going down, down, down
Yes, I’ve got my feet in the window
Got my head on the ground
5. Parish Opens Arms to Pastor Pedophilia, over at Charisma News: “After Embezzlement Scandal, Church Hires Registered Sex Offender as Pastor”
Is there even a remote possibility that you know someone living in Scottsville, Kentucky? If you care at all about this person, PLEASE MAKE SURE THAT THEY NEVER, EVER, EVER go within 1,000 feet of New Gospel Outreach Church.
According to Bizapedia:
The Registered Agent on file for this company is Roy Neal Yoakem and is located at 108 South Court St Scottsville, KY 42164. The company’s principal address is 112 Willoughby Lane Scottsville, KY 42164. The company has 5 principals on record. The principals are Danny Ray Moore, Judy Ann Wood, Kenneth Bonds, Mary Ann Russell, and Roy Neal Yoakem.
It’s bad enough that the congregation hired registered sex offender Roy Yoakem as pastor. It’s even worse that the congregation WAS FULLY AWARE of his sex offender status. But now a minor has been (allegedly) raped. And every adult in that community who knew anything about any of this deserves to be stripped of his or her sentience and made to walk the earth for all time a drooling, emptied simian.
Back in 2011, New Gospel Outreach Church Pastor Billy Owen Minix was arrested for “embezzling over $300,000 from his own congregation.”
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