So, over this past weekend, I went to the infamous sinful hellhole Las Vegas. Now, I don't usually like to go to Vegas in September, because of the dreadful desert heatwaves, but a buddy of mine (Rev. Tom Grier) invited me for some golf tournament to help raise money for some Republican tea party congressional candidates, so how could I say no?
So after a long sweaty day of swinging nine-irons, I thought I could refresh and do some of the Lord's work by hanging out at the new, chic club called Jet which they have at the Mirage and do some missionary work on some of the young, unsaved ladies there.
You wouldn't believe how disgusted I was. All these young women, aged 18-24, moving their bodies on the dance floor, slurping cocktails like they were a stranded castaway in a desert, doing lurid, horrible lesbian acts with one another in public. I almost puked. I admit, probably the only thing worse than all these sinful, abominable acts was the fact that the club did not feature my favorite Scotch. Yes, I realize it's rather hard to get their hands on an $18,000 Scotch, but this is my preferred drink! How can I enjoy an evening without taking in the subtle flavors and idiosyncratic poignancies of a drink which is truly an artform?
So, I had to settle for a 30-year old Glenfidditch. Which is a great Scotch, don't get me wrong, but a man of my caliber deserves the best and they simply did not deliver. Will I be coming back? Eh, time will tell.
Anyways, after getting through half the bottle and some Biblical debate with my fine pastor friends, we hit the dance floor, in search of some young, unsaved hussy to save. My goal that night was to bring as many women as I possibly could to my private hotel suite on the top floor of the Mirage, and make them get down on their knees before me and accept Jesus Christ as their savior.
And boy howdy, did I meet them. In the photo below (at the bottom of the page), you can see four young ladies and I managed to get every single one of them up into my suite later that evening for some testimony and Gospel-sharing. PRAISE JESUS!
On the far left is Shannon. She is 22 and a cocktail waitress at the MGM grand. She grew up Catholic, but all night I pounded into her why Catholics are Satanists, and that she needs to become a born-again Christian.
The second one on the left is Allyson. She grew up Mormon and you had no idea how much I had to convince her that her religion was complete bull. I had this woman open-wide to receive the TRUTH that Jesus Christ alone is her savior! Shout GLORY!
Then the one to my right, the one whispering in my ear. Her name was Danica, and she was 30. A bit old, but never too old to receive the Good News into her, you know? I orally testified to her all night about how the Lord saved me, and she dropped to her knees, wet tears running all down her face on how she was a sinner and needed Christ in her badly. I helped put Christ into her. She needed it.
Finally, the girl on the far right, I forget her name, but it's not important. All I know is she came up to my suite for a quick 15-minute Gospel spiel then went down to her place. She'll probably burn in Hell, but who gives a crap at this point?
THE PICTURE BELOW WHICH I REFERENCED...
So after a long sweaty day of swinging nine-irons, I thought I could refresh and do some of the Lord's work by hanging out at the new, chic club called Jet which they have at the Mirage and do some missionary work on some of the young, unsaved ladies there.
You wouldn't believe how disgusted I was. All these young women, aged 18-24, moving their bodies on the dance floor, slurping cocktails like they were a stranded castaway in a desert, doing lurid, horrible lesbian acts with one another in public. I almost puked. I admit, probably the only thing worse than all these sinful, abominable acts was the fact that the club did not feature my favorite Scotch. Yes, I realize it's rather hard to get their hands on an $18,000 Scotch, but this is my preferred drink! How can I enjoy an evening without taking in the subtle flavors and idiosyncratic poignancies of a drink which is truly an artform?
So, I had to settle for a 30-year old Glenfidditch. Which is a great Scotch, don't get me wrong, but a man of my caliber deserves the best and they simply did not deliver. Will I be coming back? Eh, time will tell.
Anyways, after getting through half the bottle and some Biblical debate with my fine pastor friends, we hit the dance floor, in search of some young, unsaved hussy to save. My goal that night was to bring as many women as I possibly could to my private hotel suite on the top floor of the Mirage, and make them get down on their knees before me and accept Jesus Christ as their savior.
And boy howdy, did I meet them. In the photo below (at the bottom of the page), you can see four young ladies and I managed to get every single one of them up into my suite later that evening for some testimony and Gospel-sharing. PRAISE JESUS!
On the far left is Shannon. She is 22 and a cocktail waitress at the MGM grand. She grew up Catholic, but all night I pounded into her why Catholics are Satanists, and that she needs to become a born-again Christian.
The second one on the left is Allyson. She grew up Mormon and you had no idea how much I had to convince her that her religion was complete bull. I had this woman open-wide to receive the TRUTH that Jesus Christ alone is her savior! Shout GLORY!
Then the one to my right, the one whispering in my ear. Her name was Danica, and she was 30. A bit old, but never too old to receive the Good News into her, you know? I orally testified to her all night about how the Lord saved me, and she dropped to her knees, wet tears running all down her face on how she was a sinner and needed Christ in her badly. I helped put Christ into her. She needed it.
Finally, the girl on the far right, I forget her name, but it's not important. All I know is she came up to my suite for a quick 15-minute Gospel spiel then went down to her place. She'll probably burn in Hell, but who gives a crap at this point?
THE PICTURE BELOW WHICH I REFERENCED...
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