Sunday, June 06, 2004
Sunday Recollections
I know not what I should do next. The absence of the wife is making the Power of the Parsnip dwindle most signficantly. I even had a day off from posting to my journal yesterday because of this situation! Alack! Alas!
But I must be strong and brave. The Way of the Parsnip has taught me that all along there will always be setbacks. The path to victory is strewn with obstacles, and this will be my greatest challenge yet. Far more important than defeating McDonalds. Possibly not as important as beating the Turnip, though.
Sunday again, and I still have no congregation to preach to. The damn Archbishop of Cunterbury obviously was taking the piss out of me when he was nodding sagely and sympathetically to my pleas of how the Parsnip Requires an Oval Office from Which To Work! The bastard!
I recall a previous sermon here. Several years ago, when I had a beard, during the service I was asked by a small boy who had came up to do a reading from the Bible if my beard was real or a wig.
I condemned the boy to Hell for not being able to distinguish between faux, manufactured synthetic hair and the Real Deal! I was gravely insulted by this! How dare he insinuate that the Parsnip would wear such a heinous facial adornment as a fake wig!
I bellowed and screamed at him, right in front of my congregation. The boy was brought to tears and I thrashed him with the back of my hand. He felt the Love of God running through his veins after that, I can tell you! Never again did he commit anti-social acts such as standing on street corners, swigging bottles of cider!
The congregation burst out into spontaneous applause! The Old Dears longed to see the return of the birch, the rod, the slipper, the gallows and the electric chair, because they are all Horny, Kinky Devils into Bondage, Discipline and Sado-Masochism! I was only too pleased to play out many of their fantasies. Funnily enough, I received many visits from the Old Dears that evening, to congratulate me one by one. Then we re-enacted the scene again. I was a very tired man that evening! The Parsnip was drained of all his Power!
Funnily enough, the boy was never the same again. He committed suicide some five days later.
He did not deserve God's Love! I am sure that he was Condemned to Hell! The best place for little tykes!
Fear The Parsnip!
But I must be strong and brave. The Way of the Parsnip has taught me that all along there will always be setbacks. The path to victory is strewn with obstacles, and this will be my greatest challenge yet. Far more important than defeating McDonalds. Possibly not as important as beating the Turnip, though.
Sunday again, and I still have no congregation to preach to. The damn Archbishop of Cunterbury obviously was taking the piss out of me when he was nodding sagely and sympathetically to my pleas of how the Parsnip Requires an Oval Office from Which To Work! The bastard!
I recall a previous sermon here. Several years ago, when I had a beard, during the service I was asked by a small boy who had came up to do a reading from the Bible if my beard was real or a wig.
I condemned the boy to Hell for not being able to distinguish between faux, manufactured synthetic hair and the Real Deal! I was gravely insulted by this! How dare he insinuate that the Parsnip would wear such a heinous facial adornment as a fake wig!
I bellowed and screamed at him, right in front of my congregation. The boy was brought to tears and I thrashed him with the back of my hand. He felt the Love of God running through his veins after that, I can tell you! Never again did he commit anti-social acts such as standing on street corners, swigging bottles of cider!
The congregation burst out into spontaneous applause! The Old Dears longed to see the return of the birch, the rod, the slipper, the gallows and the electric chair, because they are all Horny, Kinky Devils into Bondage, Discipline and Sado-Masochism! I was only too pleased to play out many of their fantasies. Funnily enough, I received many visits from the Old Dears that evening, to congratulate me one by one. Then we re-enacted the scene again. I was a very tired man that evening! The Parsnip was drained of all his Power!
Funnily enough, the boy was never the same again. He committed suicide some five days later.
He did not deserve God's Love! I am sure that he was Condemned to Hell! The best place for little tykes!
Fear The Parsnip!
