Put Some Gay In Your Day, Dallas!

Curse. Cracker. Court.

We need some lighter fare this week.

Curse.  I came upon a story which I found to be of great interest. Apparently some poor soul from Canada absconded with some artifacts when she was visiting the ruins of Pompeii some years back. She recently felt convicted to send these artifacts back to the archaeologists in that Italian city saying that, ever since she absconded with said artifacts, tragedy has befallen her and her family. I don’t know if there was some sort of voodoo curse on her but, as a Christian, I can attest to the fact that the Lord also indeed frowns upon such actions. I took some water from the river Jordan home in a mason jar. I had bad gas and bloating for a good two years after that. Praise the Lord I didn’t pick up a nail at Mount Calvary and put it in my purse!

Cracker.  Now this really tests my faith as a God-fearing Babatist. That southern eating establishment known for its “discriminating” tastes and tastes of grease has chosen to take a turn down Satan‘s path.  Cracker Barrel has announced that they will begin serving alcohol in their restaurants. As a Babatist, I have always felt comfortable knowing that this restaurant chain was out there as a safe place for me to have Sunday lunch or Tuesday night supper without the presence of a drunk. I am truly going to have to rethink this gastronomic choice in light of this filthy liquored-up decision.  I do have a hunch, however, that the idea of impairing the decision making of their patrons would consequently mean a boon for business in the adjoining shop as customers leave.  After all, I have rarely seen anything in that store that I thought anyone in their right mind would purchase.

Court.  I briefly bore witness to the nomination hearings for Sister Amy Coney Barrett as she prepares herself to be lifted to the Supreme Court. Of interest to me was her use of the words “sexual preference” when it comes to Sodomites and Lesbyterians. Now, I don’t like to exalt those from that sinful community, but even I know the hazards of using the phrase “sexual preference.” For instance, my sexual preference is “none.” Brother Jerry Falwell, Jr.’s sexual preference is “poolside.” Reverend Jimmy Swaggart‘s sexual preference was apparently “in a car with a hooker.”  Sister Amy Semple McConey Island would do well to stick to “sexual orientation” in her semantics. Truthfully, I can’t imagine having to go to orientation for sex, but then again, I’m not a sodomite!

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