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Elvis Impersonators
God killed Elvis Presley in 1977. It was the only way to stop his gyrating hips. Unfortunately, impersonators have been carrying on his swiveling sinfulness.
Friends, I was petrified throughout the 50s, 60s, and 70s of being raped by Elvis. He haunted my dreams like a horny, jumpsuited Freddy Krueger. He would thrust his powerful pelvis and taut buttocks unremittingly in my face and then seduce me with his soft, southern drawl, whisking me away to his bedroom in Graceland to make a human peanut butter and banana sandwich. When he was finally struck down by God, I thought I would finally find some peace. Thanks to these impersonators, I now have nightmares of being pinned downed and summarily gang-raped by a thousand shimmying Elvises, their sweaty upper lips twitching fervently. These nightmares are so real that I can actually feel the rhinestones chaffing my skin.
Elvis impersonation is a cult, plain and simple. As you can read here, it "offers a spectacle of the grotesque, the display of the fetishized Elvis body by impersonators who use a combination of Christian and New Age imagery and language to describe their devotion to The King. [. . .] True impersonators don't 'do Elvis' for monetary gain, but as missionaries to spread the message of The King." I know you share my outrage over this blasphemy.
These Elvis perverts come in all sizes and colors.
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They can be found anywhere, but tend to congregate in Las Vegas.
Las Vegas makes Amsterdam look like Mayberry. There's drunkenness, gambling, homosexuals, tigers, homosexual tigers, quickie-marriages, and Wayne Newton. This degenerate city is a perfect fit for Elvis impersonators. They wear shamefully tight costumes that would make a Cirque du Soleil performer blush.
Children are especially susceptible to being brain-washed into the cult.
Out of the kindness of my heart, I am setting up a lucrative deprogramming camp. If your child so much as says "Thank you very much," put him or her in my camp first and say "You're welcome" later.
We need to squelch this cult before their numbers grow too large. We must petition Congress to outlaw Elvis impersonation before our great nation is consumed by it. We have to put an end to my steamy nightmares. The threat is real. Join me in combating it. And praise Jesus Christ, the real King. Amen.
Friends, I was petrified throughout the 50s, 60s, and 70s of being raped by Elvis. He haunted my dreams like a horny, jumpsuited Freddy Krueger. He would thrust his powerful pelvis and taut buttocks unremittingly in my face and then seduce me with his soft, southern drawl, whisking me away to his bedroom in Graceland to make a human peanut butter and banana sandwich. When he was finally struck down by God, I thought I would finally find some peace. Thanks to these impersonators, I now have nightmares of being pinned downed and summarily gang-raped by a thousand shimmying Elvises, their sweaty upper lips twitching fervently. These nightmares are so real that I can actually feel the rhinestones chaffing my skin.
Elvis impersonation is a cult, plain and simple. As you can read here, it "offers a spectacle of the grotesque, the display of the fetishized Elvis body by impersonators who use a combination of Christian and New Age imagery and language to describe their devotion to The King. [. . .] True impersonators don't 'do Elvis' for monetary gain, but as missionaries to spread the message of The King." I know you share my outrage over this blasphemy.
These Elvis perverts come in all sizes and colors.
[They can be found anywhere, but tend to congregate in Las Vegas.
Las Vegas makes Amsterdam look like Mayberry. There's drunkenness, gambling, homosexuals, tigers, homosexual tigers, quickie-marriages, and Wayne Newton. This degenerate city is a perfect fit for Elvis impersonators. They wear shamefully tight costumes that would make a Cirque du Soleil performer blush.
Children are especially susceptible to being brain-washed into the cult.
Out of the kindness of my heart, I am setting up a lucrative deprogramming camp. If your child so much as says "Thank you very much," put him or her in my camp first and say "You're welcome" later.
We need to squelch this cult before their numbers grow too large. We must petition Congress to outlaw Elvis impersonation before our great nation is consumed by it. We have to put an end to my steamy nightmares. The threat is real. Join me in combating it. And praise Jesus Christ, the real King. Amen.
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