In 1878 Ted Jaracz' predecessor, Charlie T. Russell, whipped himself into a frenzy of self-righteous expectation and led a cluster flock of his friends and associates out onto the streets to stand expectantly on the Sixth Street Bridge in Pittsburgh dressed in white robes waiting to be caught up into heaven. Nothing happened, but Charlie lacked the stones to jump off that bridge into the Allegheny river and call Jesus' bluff.
Now hard times have hit the 'Tower: contributions (the parasites' life blood) are down, and "Da Boss" is getting ready to whack off about a thousand Brothas and Sistas and cast them adrift to fend for themselves in the cold cruel worldly world.
May I respectfully suggest that there is A BETTER WAY?
Ted and the rest of his Siesta Amigos of the Governing Body are old and decrepit. I know Ted is - I saw him on BBC's Panorama. Other GB members are permanent residents of the infirmary. Face it: their "earthly temples" have fallen into disrepair, their bowels have betrayed them.
Boys, isn't it time you thought long and hard about relocating yourselves to your heavenly mansions?
Surely the glory awaiting you there is more tempting than hanging around to see what the 2003 model year colostomy bags look like, isn't it?
Get out the white robes, mix up some Crystal Frost Kool Aid (Grape might stain the robes), and and show some leadership!
Or is it true what they say - that , "All the old fruit-bags want to serve at the right hand of Jesus Christ, but none of them want to die."?
There is one problem, of course - word is that Fred Franz is gonna kick your faggy ass next time he sees you!
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Edited by - Nathan Natas on 17 July 2002 16:33:43
Edited by - Nathan Natas on 17 July 2002 16:44:45