This Epistle is a short, sad, but, a very poignant heartwrenching story that I believe is necessary to properly introduce myself to you, my new malcontented friends, here, on The News Talker.com.
"Fellow newsvine.com dropouts, fiends, and, Facebookers (blackballed for speaking to power (Mark Z)," we are all gathered, here, because, in truth, none of us have any real friends.
I suspect, like me, you, too, are more comfortable chatting to "complete strangers" online, than, to "real people," who inadvertently stumble into our dull, sordid, meaningless lives of "abject despair," and, uncontrollable crying jags.
I was once like you; now, I'm not! I am worse!
That is due primarily, I suspect, to the many, frequent, unsolicited beatings I have endured from Conservative, Right-Wing Christians in Red Hats, who stalk me daily seeking to convert me to their backwoods religious mythology!
Have they approached you?
As near as I can tell, their argument is straightforward, if not somewhat twisted, "The White, Blue Eyed, Blond Haired JESUS" controls everything in their daily life, including driving their vehicle, and, of, course, who to vote for at all elections."
They love it because its free up their mind and they no longer have to think! That is tempting, I had to admit.
These extremely "patriotic, religious nutcases," rattle on, forcing me to listen to them, because, they usually have their foot in the door, preventing me from slamming it shut, and. often are loaded down with automatic weapons.
I have turned down their offer many times in the past, but since, I live in an old palatial, historic house, they, mistakenly believe, that I am from old money. I am just old.
So, now they send beautiful, shapely women with gigantic bosoms to tempt me into joining their cult.
A woman with big tits will get me to open the door, even, invite them in, regardless of whether she has a gun in her hand, or, not. I am a man, after all. We are designed to "Follow the Tit."
So naturally, I would pour myself a stiff drink in my morning cup of Bill Cosby's new Cappuccino, "Love Them & Leave on the Spot" favorite coffee, politely asking them if they would like to join me in my bedroom, or, in the sunroom for coffee.
Patiently, intently I listen, like a middle-school boy with roaring hormones to their religious pitch, all the while fixated on her heaving cleavage.
By the seventh drink, I am a little drunk, hyper, and ready to explode. It is at these moments they let me in on a "religious trade secret", by hypnotizing me, I believe, with their ritual "crossing and uncrossing" of their beautiful long, sexy legs, like the female news anchors on Fox TV Network Fake News do daily.
I can't keep my head from spinning like Linda Blair's blockbuster movie, "Exorcist"! Tits to legs to tits!
There I sit, in me own home, stoned, still in my PJs, raring to be called upon by the "Holy Spirit" to do some "Holy Dunking In The Baptismal Tank".
Transfixed my every word that slips from her large succulent lips, I start "Talking-In-Tongues", which is a good thing, because if I spoke in English I would be arrested.
As I do with all visitors, friends, even my wife, like Trump's halfwit attorney, Michael Cohen, I flick on my hidden recorder.
I like to listen to my recording, later that night in my bed, with the light off, as I nestle under satin sheets concentrating on any nuanced innuendos I may have missed.
Most every night, alone in my bedroom, drapes drawn, I turn up the volume, throw off my earthly clothes and listen intently to the audio tape over and over again.
I fall asleep, exhausted, or, when my wife pounds on my bedroom door shouting:
"Turn that damn radio off, or, I am coming in there like a scene out of one of Jack Nicholson's movie with a Sharp Axe."
In Summary, what I have gleaned from my encounters with these sexy, full figure Religious "Witnesses" is that their "spiritual knowledge" comes from their "wealthy preacher man."
Their backwoods preacher man shares his secretly acquired spiritual knowledge" with them in exchange for "ONLY ten percent" (10%) of their Gross Income (Not Net), as a token of their love of him, and, for his message, of, course, Snort!
Nearly, as I can ascertain, all the members of the church of the Rising Sun agreed to this fee agreement if they want to get into the "Pearly Gates", or, keep their front teeth.
I have observed, from my Religious Researcher that other right-wing religious orders, like the Evangelical, Talking-In- Tongue bunch of stay Hill Billies pray, also, to the "Blue Eyed Jesus"!
I asked what do you pray to Elvis Jesus, they, nearly always respond,"That one day, soon, I may be as rich as my preacher man".
And what does your "preacher man", said to you, "Yes, my lovely, as long as you are current on your Tithes, the Blue Eyed, Blond Haired Jesus from Nashville, Tennessee may grant you that blessing. "Now, give your preacher man a real, wet, Elvis-like Jesus kiss".
Several, well-known, Televangelists, that I have never spoken to, or, read, are reportedly near billionaires, e.g., Pat Robertson, Pastor Jimmy Bakker, the cute Joel Olsten, even that fat White whale, Reverend John Hagge. Like Religious ROCKSTARS in their Evil-genital Movement, they attract enormous crowds of suckers, like maggots to a rotting cow corpse in a field of lonely flowers.
Hagge, the fattest among them, is also, financially the most obese "fat cat". His televangelist enterprise has made him an estimated "net worth" of over $600,000,000.
These "Christian" preacher, or, "Christ-like" backwoods, born-upside down pastors, all seem to have "come (literally) to 'The Jesus' after an all-night drunk, face-up on the barroom floor!
To augment their semi-truck loads of cashing from begging poor folks to contribute to their ministry, they peddle religious items essentially to one's fulfilling one's religious experience!
These must have biblical accessories, include, but, are not limited "Specially Embossed Leather Bibles from Jesus's sandal, Holy Water, Religious Relics, including, "Authentic Locks of Jesus' hair", a CD set of "Racy Bible Stories", Vacation Travel Plans to the "Holyland with Stopovers at a hot spring spa in Sodom and Gomorrah for a little R&R from all the Church leaning. And, the total emersion in the "blood of the lamb", born-again experience, is not complete without "an exclusive, six week, one-on-one counseling sessions behind, closed, locked doors to exorcise the Devil from one's loins".
Due to our generous Republican-passed, new Federal Tax Laws, all of these religious enterprises are tax exempt!
When I inquire, "as to how their Spiritual Advisor came upon his unique, little known to others, wisdom," they all seem to spin the same "yarn".
Some, the more experience one, even take out a ball of old yarn, reading its tied knots, as the ancient Incas are said to have done.
It is incredible how much one can take in when one is "snookered"!
Well, Brothers and Sista of the Corn Hole Degeneration, these religious solicitors in low cut blouses, all recount a similar story of their past-turd man's "enlightenment."
It goes something, like this:
"After a three-day drunk, they awoke, face-up on the barroom floor, where an Angel, or (angel) appeared to them in a very low cut gown, with fantastic bosoms!
"The big Bosom, hotty from HELL, or, HEAVEN (they never know for sure which providence they come from) explain to them, in no uncertain words (pictures) that they could make a "Hell of a Lot More MONEY" telling folks what to believe, than driving a "rattling, death trap" of a ten-wheeler across 'Merica."
Now, to be fair to these self-anointed, backwoods pastors, who love to "Preach- In-Tongues," because if the average person understood what "The Pentecostal Jesus of the Upside Down Church" was saying, their heads might burst into flames, or, worse explodes into a thousand pieces.
These "highly, untrained Holy-Roller preachers" are, to a man, thought to be "telepathically communicating with an Angel (or Angle named Trump) that gives them "insight" in exchange for cash money.
These "wannabe, backwoods preacher men" are taught techniques by "bearded ladies" guaranteed to scare the "BeJesus" out of sinners.
The frightened sinners are scared to such an extent that many of the "unfaithful" pee their pants on the spot "Spiritual State of Ecstasy" induced by eating wafer made of "Ecstasy"!
Generally, a successful conversion include a lot of screaming "Hallelujahs," jumping up and down on church pews, regardless of who may be sitting in it!
follow by foaming at the mouth, collapsing on the dirt floor of the storefront Church, combined with guttural growlings of utterance emanating from their now enlarged orifices, until the Devil leaves the sinner and enters a "pretty, younger girl seated not far away from the former "sinner", now cleansed!
Shaking, shouting and rolling around on the church floor, the newly cleanse believers enter into a religious trance that only ends when all of their money falls out of their pockets, directly into the collection plates lining the floors of the Church.
These so-called, "passed turds," then, milk the country yokels, (aka, "rubes") of all their "worldly possessions setting them free from their demons and their "hard cash", which, of course, is what attracted the "demons" to them.
The ceremony ends with the signing of an Iron-clad, Unbreakable "Christian Affidavit", stating that "the signee agrees to allow their Divinely Appointed" Passed-Turd access to their Facebook password, checkbook, bank record and permission to sleep with their daughter, or, daughters, as Lot did in Genesis".
The preacher's "skill set," was personally designed by the "Blond Haired, Blue Eyed, White Jesus" to prepare them for the beat down they would administer to their "doubting Thomases" in their Church.
Or, so, I am told, by many bruised and bloodied Trump Supporters, who, now miraculously possessed this "Little Known, Little Understood Section" of theNew, Improved Hillbillies Bible, written in BLOCK LETTERS for Trump Supporters.
By this time, in their storytelling I am usually, "three sheets to the wind", and willing to pay them to leave.
It is all starting to make sense to me, and, I swear that that's woman's tits increased by a full cup size.
As, per usual, I jam a fist full of dollar bills down her cleavage, quickly ushering them out the back door before "Mother" gets home.
Well, my fellow gullible News Talkers.com urinalists, I can only surmise that " this, here, preaching business," according to my own, ill-mannered, Spiritual Advisor, Reverend Oral Fleece, "is the Second Oldest Occupation in the world"! Just behind the first one.
"CON MEN", the Very, Very Reverend Oral, counseled me, "are men of cloth cut from the robe of Jesus by Mary Magdalene, to be sold to support her and her illegitimately conceived child by "the Jesus", and her other offsprings from the men she will, as yet, "unscrew", when "The Jesus" is gone, so, as a preventive that she wouldn't return to her, old "Ho-ing" ways, or, so I am told by others! The writers of the New-Old Bible did not know about Welfare back in the day so they left out many things for modern day religious scholars/preacher might add as needed.
"You see, Winnie," the Very, Very Reverend Oral Fleece, "Straight From the Street and Not From the Police" explained to me that, "preachers and politicians are the much the same! Their profession both start with the letter 'P'!"
If I interrupt, the right Reverend, he slaps me in the face and says, "Now that is no damn coincidence. Nothing is!"
You see preachers, in the Old Testament, were called "con artists, too, but, it was in Greek or Latin, or, American slang. No one knew what was said. Perhaps, a little like me, today.
Thank you for listening. I have no friends.
"Remember that story in the Bible," the Reverend Fleece reminds me as he places his hand on my thigh, where the very "first con man," Satan, tempted, or, as we say, today, "conned" Eve with that Apple Computer"?
Well, that started humankind's downfall.
You see, folks, it is all in GOD'S universal plan, available now, online, via my WebSite, for only $250.00!
Damn, I'll bet that is something you did not know, or, want to know!
Over my lifetime, I have repeatedly attempted to explain to these lovely, ex-playmate, big-busted Jehovah Witness, spiritual-enticers, that I have my spiritual affliction.
I am an ORTHODOX DRUID, but, like most Evil-Genital Christians, that I encounter in grocery stores, or, at work, after work in brothels, etc., they do not seem to listen to anyone, nor, allow anyone to get a word in edgewise.
These Duluthians can turn tricks on a dime and turn instantaneously into ravenous, "Killers for Christ," who believe in "crushing the heads of non-believers" by stoning them, but, not with Marijuana, which, they claim is the "Devil's weed."
This biblical technic of stoning sinner with a rock the size of one's fist is preferable to choking them to death with one's hands.
It keeps dissentients quite!
"That is what God wants them to do!
Stone the wicked", it is in the Bible, somewhere.
Stone them until they are dead, or, repentant, whichever comes first.
One has to admit that they had a very pervasive argument and combined with big tits it is nearly impossible for a decent man not to succumb.
It is a good thing that I am not a decent man.
It is a combination of facts, fiction and passionate desire that is difficult to rebuke.
In summary, "I yam what I yam", as our local Popeye, here, in Mildew, says, never failing to add that hurtful phrase, "Cause urine not right in da head, Winnie."
Well, I am not Right!
More, Left-Leaning, I would say.
In my capacity, or, lack, thereof, as, Publisher of the "less than prestigious", Eat The Press - Do Not Read It, ("located in lovely, but, nearly all torn down Mildew, Ohio, where there are no jobs, "not even blow jobs"), I am seen through my Kitchen windows by the locals as "somewhat of a town oddity".
I bathe regularly!
Mostly, I pass unseen through my beloved, "nearly all torn down downtown" while my adorning fans mob by lookalike, Tommy Lee Jones. These screaming, panting, "nearly-naked" fans, (male and female) and, on those rare occasions, our unique 3-foot snails, as I quietly limp by undetected "to and fro". . .!
On my "merry-fairy way" to my newspaper shack (next to the Radio Shack) located in the still wet basement of the Washington Monument!
Talk about a long commute!
And, at dusk, to avoid being seen, I make the long, lonely trek back to my palatial suite, the last standing, Dick Cheney Nursing Home for Wayward Republicans, where "Waterboarding is NOT tortured. It is a therapy!"
Here, in Mildew, Ohio, (Did I hear someone ask, "Where Is dat, Winnie?")
Well, misanthrope, deadbeats, and, your cities' "Most Notorious Reject", Mildew, Ohio is "Just a Sharp Right Turn From Commonsense", according to our Convention and Visitors' Guide, that we assiduously nail to our visitor's forehead, before they exist in order that they might find their way back, after the "hospital stay!
Now for you scientific buff, "let me say this about that," in my best Nixonian voice, follow these still crisp instructions:
"We are just a hop, skip, and, a jump from Orion's Belt, adjacent to the billboard, on top of the "Choke & Croak" restaurant, that a Good Samaritan, long ago explained to us that it means: "Welcome To The Outer Limits - There Is No There, There, And No Going Back!
Mildew, if you have not guessed already, is a "gated "community. No one knows who built the gate, or, why!
But, like so many of our fellow Americans, we, too, hide in absolute isolation, surrounded by minefields, machine gun turrets and dozens of brightly, hand- painted, cardboard Warning Signs, that read (we think): "CAUTION: Former Toxic Waste Dump Site"!
Mildew (not that anyone wants to know, has ever asked, or, cares) is a community comprised mostly of ejected Left Leaning Liberals, Too, Damn Lazy To Work, who were "immediately escorted out of their town when Trump came to power."
We are known, "far and near as the lovable dullards without a brain in our heads, cause we jest love that FREE GOVERNMENT CHEESE"!
You, Left Leaning Liberal 'Mericans out there in Whoop-Whoop Land, know what I am talkin' about.
I speak of the life-sustaining boxes of stale Velveeta Cheese that the Guv'mint mailed to us once per month, along with our FREE Food Stamps, Free Obama Cell Phones, and, Free Hustler magazine, courtesy of Publisher Clearing House, on the proviso that we NEVER "darken their doorway", or, venture outside of Mildew!
Dr. "Been Crazy", head of HUD, (Housing & Urban Development) has stepped up with the "freebies", now, that "the former Brain Surgeon", and, his entire family, like all of us, here, in Mildew, are all sucking from the same guv'mint TIT!
Yum, Yum! And, I thought Uncle Sam was a man.
Friends, fellow misfits, I am inviting you right now to "Come on Down to the Dark Side and visit with us. We don't bite, at least, not on first sight".
In the spirit of transparency, I must point out that Mildew is an "officially registered", Ohio Department of Tourism "Tourist Trap, Speed Trap, and, Animal Trap Community" according to the FBI, where, they note, in their "DEEP STATE" files, that they have often observed that "many folks check in, but, few check out".
That witty slogan, "Tourist Trap", was suggested by our own Digger O'Dell, owner of the local Hotel/Restaurant/Casino/Funeral Home Trump complex, here, in Mildew, Ohio, where mushrooms grow to the size of one's head, and, long-term residents' heads shrink to the size of a peanut.
"Digger, a Republican and personal friend of "the Donald" is the richest man in town. Therefore, he is the Mayor, the Undertaker, the Banker and the owner of our only restaurant, "The Infamous Choke & Croak Restaurant & Final Resting Place for Your WealthyRelatives."
Digger is also an attorney and can handle "Changes to One's LAST WILL and Testaments" for tourists requiring his services.
As the sole Republican in our dimly lit community of nitwits, he is, also, the only one that can "read, write and rob legally."
Folks, take this as a personal invitation! Come on down and visit! You can find us at "ghoules.com." we are desperate for "the company," and, don't mine groveling!
Mildew is easy to find! If you're lucky enough, in this downturned economy to own an auto, just follow the smell. Some folks do, however, come by ambulance when their Medicare/Medicaid runs out. They just dump them at our front door, and, we take them in because we are STUPID!
However, if you are lucky, or, foolish enough to drive on our "Highway to Hell," no speed limit interstate road, aka, "Whitehouse Road" (because of that one White House)!
Keep one eye on the road, and, the other one (assuming you have two) on the coded, "Deep State highway signs. We are the second exit, beyond the one that reads, "Twilight Zone"!
Our motto is "One Small Step for Mankind, One Giant Leap from Reality"!
'Merica's First Fake President, Trump, vacations here. He says it "rejuvenates him" when the constant hounding by the national "Media" is softening him on humanitarian issues! After a few days here, he gets his old rude, mean, superior self-aggrandizement back.
Hope to see you soon! Bring your spoon. We eat with our hands.