Pardon my absence last week. But I’m back with a vengeance.
Variety. This world continues to amaze and disgust me. I have always known that COSMOPOLITAN magazine was a liberal publication, hell-bent on encouraging the sluttier nature of women. For years, I have been able to turn a blind eye and pray for their wayward readers. You can imagine my hopefulness when I heard that Cosmo was featuring their first man on the cover. What an opportunity to bring variety to the publication! I should have known that Satan was behind this move. To say that there is a man on the cover of the first issue of 2020 is a mighty stretch. It’s a long haired, bearded sodomite in a dress! I feel faint. It’s as if Jesus himself showed up to the wedding in Cana wearing Mary’s robes before turning water into wine. Praise the Lord this issue is only in the UK. I’d have to have to go a whole month without going to the Piggly Wiggly checkout line just to wait until this this issue is replaced with February’s!
Victory. The Lord has bestowed might and power upon the gridiron of my alma mater, Baylor University. The football tabernacle on the banks of the Brazos in Jerusalem (pronounced “Way Co”) has seen victories over 10 other teams of lesser faith. Only one team was able to leave the Bears in defeat. But just like Christ himself, these Crucified Cubs shall rise again in victory over this same enemy in a rematch to claim the Big 12 title. Big 12. Just like the Disciples. With all these biblical allegories, we can pray in agreement that Sooner and very Sooner, we are going to claim the final victory! Hallelujah.
Verisimilitude. The French are at it again. Such snobs. Our esteemed President was in a press conference with French President, Emmanuel Macron this week. During the conference, in full public view, Brother Macaroon had the audacity to correct the President of the United States not once, not twice, but THREE times! It’s a shame when a man who doesn’t even normally speak English corrects someone of Brother Trump’s intelligence. I would hope that Donald would have half a mind to put Mon Sewer Macaroni in his place, but even I have to admit that half a mind is asking for too much. Parlez-vous stupide?