Internet Chess Club

Sunday, September 9, 2012

The Wages Of NCIS Is SIN.

“The Holy Ghost is a foul, loud-mouthed spiritual parasite and soul predator screaming after shouting in most un-Godly language, ‘Repent or fucking die, sinner!’”

Get it? All this recent mind reprobation, soul degeneracy, and health degradation was ever about was me ignoring the Holy Ghost and hearing the parasite get louder and louder onto repentance.

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“Fornication? Masturbation? Fuck these evangelical idiots! Shit, I read the whole entire Holy Bible from Genesis to Revelations from cover-to-cover twice: Life is difficult enough as it is without adding more of that guilt-ridden, suffering weight to my simpleminded emotional baggage.”

Therefore, I cannot understand how someone like me who went two full decades without SEX – from 1995 to 1999, then from (does masturbation count? Hmm, no. Okay) about 1990 to 1999, then, again, from 2000 to 2009. And it’s 2011 to the present! – can all of a sudden become so wrapped-up and warped by this externally induced PSYCHO-ELECTRONIC impulsive drive to procreate when only just a few years ago I hardly gave the possibility of sexual intercourse serious consideration, being either able to refuse silently in disbelief or to accept my seemingly permanent celibate state with a sense of fatalism...

All-together. “Now, I’m impotent and I can’t vote. I caught a venereal disease from a ghetto-trash, nigger-bitch slut named Evelyn or Rachel the very first time I ever fucked. And you evangelical idiots tell me that I had to be SAVED just to get some clean, honest and healthy pussy within the Black Community. I say, fuck Jesus Christ and the donkey He and His Mother Mary rode in on!”

So, now I have AIDS.

What were these stupid evangelical idiots trying to turn me in to anyway, huh? I know, the cover from THE MIS-EDUCATION OF THE NEGRO!  A simpleminded, ignorant nigger speaking in “tongues”, whooping-and-hollering in some smelly front pew at a sweaty black church.

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“The Holy Ghost is a blood-clotting and brain-squeezing carrier pigeon croaking from underneath bridge underpass rafters, ‘Repent or die, motherfucker!’ Like some sinful Pentecostal elder married to a big, fat nigger-bitch with half-a-dozen kids not his who’ve all been smoking crack: ‘You’re all my children,’ he proclaims before we holler back, ‘Praise God!’” – Excerpts from GMU Chronicle 1996: “The Fly-Papers” by WS Duncan-Binns.

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