Put Some Gay In Your Day, Dallas!

Broadway. Bereavement. Birthday.

At long last, I have spoken.

Broadway.  Did you watch the parade of sodomy disguised as an awards show last Sunday?  I always watch these award show displays of sluts in revealing dresses in order to inform my prayer life.  But the Tony Awards was a horse of a different color altogether!  The questionable dresses were on MEN!  And just about every man in men’s clothing got up and slobbered on about their “husbands.”  It just made me vomit.  At one point, a woman leaned over to kiss a man in the audience, and I thought I was suddenly in a parallel universe.  Next mission trip I take to New York City, I will steer clear of any of these Broadway shows unless I can verify that there are fine Christian people of moral turpitude in the cast.  Even if it is written by a Hebrew.

Bereavement.  I have been bereft in light of the passing of God’s servant, Brother Pat Robertson.  So many have looked to me for comfort since his passing, anxiously awaiting my words of ministry in response.  The man hath wrought so many pronouncements over his years of work, many of which were questionable at best.  I’ve always been delighted that he brought a former Miss America on to his telecast to spread the gospel.  At least she was the pretty one.  And he certainly affected my work by inspiring the name of my own program, The 701 Club — ever a reminder that I will always be just a LITTLE bit better.  But as he enters into the afterlife, I pray that he no longer sees through a glass dimly, but rather can see clearly in full.  While he constantly blamed the ills of the world on people he deemed inferior, may he be met by a Haitian Lesbyterian feminist at the Pearly Gates throwing hurricanes in his path, thus redirecting him to a lake of fire with a fishnet paddle.  Let the people say amen.

Birthday.  As I celebrated my birthday yesterday, my emails and texts of birthday blessings were interrupted by news of President 45.  I don’t know what all was done to him, but I know he was arranged in a Miami court after being indicated.  Supposedly, this is all good news, yet long overdue.  I could have indicated that his hair needed to be rearranged years ago.  But no one asked me.