Tweet
Oh sweet Lord Jesus. You know I ain't normally the praying type. Not cause I don't believe in you, simply on account of I'm the type of man that likes to get things done with his own two hands. All my life I done this. Everything I got I earned with the sweat off my back and of course with your holy grace. Now I have but one thing to ask of you.
As I sit in this motel in Memphis, surrounded by my beautiful babies, my shining tools of righteousness, I raise up my voice in humble beseechment.
Lord, please reveal the location of Jerry Lee Lewis.
I've read the star maps and he ain't there. I ask around and get nothing but dirty looks. These millennial faggots don't even know the name... that or they think I mean Jerry Lewis, the comedian who debased himself raising money for cripples. That is not the man whom I seek, for that man is three years dead. Three years dead, three years in Hell. Three years served out of a sentence of Eternity. Jerry Lewis has been dealt with. Jerry Lee has not.
I got to know where he is. For 85 years -- that's 50 more than our sweet savior lived among us -- this cocksucker has been breathing air that he's got no right to breathe. Walking on soil he ought to be buried under. It ain't right and it's high time something was done about it.
In the Year of Our Lord 1958, at the age of 22 he married and did shoot his seed into Myra Gale Brown. A pretty lass of 13, yes 13 years old he rendered unclean and unfit to harbor spawn nor the prick of any good man. And that ain't the worst of it. Lord, if only that were the worst. No. Myra was the daughter of one JW Brown, who was Jerry's own first cousin. Making her his first cousin once removed.
Jerry Lee Lewis is an incestuous pedophile and a stain on the Earth.
Four days ago, the Lord revealed to me that I am his instrument of correction. I was watching on Youtube an episode of the Grand Ole Opry from 1973 in which Mr. Lewis did appear. His performance was awash in crudity and brought disgrace to that hallowed venue of Country Music. In my outrage I flung a cup of coffee at the computer, causing it to freeze and blazon the screen with the permanent image of a sneering Jerry Lee and his young bride. The fear in her eyes was stark. Fear of his clammy hands on her skin, his booze-soaked breath polluting her lungs. Fear of his cock. I felt such disgust in that moment, I would have done anything to remove the image from my screen.
Yet I could not.
I pushed every key, but it didn't go away. I turned it off. I even unplugged it. Nothing. He looked straight at me and he smirked, as if in a dare.
I produced a .38 special and shot a bullet through the monitor. Right where his head was.
It went black.
And in that moment I knew what had to be done and that I was the man chosen to do it.
Therefore I do pray to you, oh blessed Lord, as I lay my forehead down on the floor of my room at the Quick-Stay Motel in Memphis with my full arsenal arrayed in cruciform about me.
Just tell me where to find that piece of shit.
I promise I won't let you down.
Amen.
As I sit in this motel in Memphis, surrounded by my beautiful babies, my shining tools of righteousness, I raise up my voice in humble beseechment.
Lord, please reveal the location of Jerry Lee Lewis.
I've read the star maps and he ain't there. I ask around and get nothing but dirty looks. These millennial faggots don't even know the name... that or they think I mean Jerry Lewis, the comedian who debased himself raising money for cripples. That is not the man whom I seek, for that man is three years dead. Three years dead, three years in Hell. Three years served out of a sentence of Eternity. Jerry Lewis has been dealt with. Jerry Lee has not.
I got to know where he is. For 85 years -- that's 50 more than our sweet savior lived among us -- this cocksucker has been breathing air that he's got no right to breathe. Walking on soil he ought to be buried under. It ain't right and it's high time something was done about it.
In the Year of Our Lord 1958, at the age of 22 he married and did shoot his seed into Myra Gale Brown. A pretty lass of 13, yes 13 years old he rendered unclean and unfit to harbor spawn nor the prick of any good man. And that ain't the worst of it. Lord, if only that were the worst. No. Myra was the daughter of one JW Brown, who was Jerry's own first cousin. Making her his first cousin once removed.
Jerry Lee Lewis is an incestuous pedophile and a stain on the Earth.
Four days ago, the Lord revealed to me that I am his instrument of correction. I was watching on Youtube an episode of the Grand Ole Opry from 1973 in which Mr. Lewis did appear. His performance was awash in crudity and brought disgrace to that hallowed venue of Country Music. In my outrage I flung a cup of coffee at the computer, causing it to freeze and blazon the screen with the permanent image of a sneering Jerry Lee and his young bride. The fear in her eyes was stark. Fear of his clammy hands on her skin, his booze-soaked breath polluting her lungs. Fear of his cock. I felt such disgust in that moment, I would have done anything to remove the image from my screen.
Yet I could not.
I pushed every key, but it didn't go away. I turned it off. I even unplugged it. Nothing. He looked straight at me and he smirked, as if in a dare.
I produced a .38 special and shot a bullet through the monitor. Right where his head was.
It went black.
And in that moment I knew what had to be done and that I was the man chosen to do it.
Therefore I do pray to you, oh blessed Lord, as I lay my forehead down on the floor of my room at the Quick-Stay Motel in Memphis with my full arsenal arrayed in cruciform about me.
Just tell me where to find that piece of shit.
I promise I won't let you down.
Amen.
.gif "Gunsmilie(1)")
Comment