Revelations have just revelled in revealing that all who would enter heaven -- better start stocking up on PIG MILK//
Praise the mountanious balls of the rightous, short haired, aryan Jesus. I am using my new voice operated program to get these words on the screen simply by talking into a microphone!! Oh, Praise The Buff One!!! He is so in shape!!! Can you just imagine the health club there? I have had visions of working out with a chiseled and cut Jesus and a bunch of Angels. This one always ends with us having to rub oil on each other. I really feel the hand of god at such times just pumping me up
I have two words for you, christian investors and harlots who would like to avoid being being butt pummeled with the huge, hard, hot dong of Satan for just... all of eternity (my buttocks hole is literally twitching at this awful, rampaging thought)...and, those two blessed, wondrous words of gold are:
PIG MILK
From the teet of the mighty pig. Oh, the pig has been talked down, sure. The jews and the muslims have maligned them for so many years that the gentle pig has learned to hate them back... but The Buff One says their time has come!!! Let no one speak ill of the pig!!! You can take that as scripture, and scripture it is, the scripture that I added -- The Book of Gilford.
That is right, Pig Milk. Why should only cows have the privilage of avoiding slaughter, and having sunction devices on their teets every morning... I certainly envy cows on this count. But mostly, I love pigs. As a lot of you know, from the sermons which I occasionally bless the Greater Fort Wayne, Indiana, Fundamentalist congregations, I grew up on a pig farm, where I became intimate with many of our little hooved friends,' -- which added a certain dark cloud of losing a lot of freinds to the butcher knife (if I had not known they were going to heaven, I would have perhaps even tried to save the pigs... especially the special ones who I used to bone... wait, computer, voice activation thing, I command thee to erase boned... and say sermonized. Is this working? Okay.. have to be sure and remember to edit this before putting it on that satan addled site.
I grew up drinking the milk of the mighty pig and was in fact shocked when I went to a neighbors house once for lunch and discovered to my horror that people were actually drinking cow milk. We used it to make cheese, and fatten gerbils for slaughter and such, but drinking that stuff? No. I like my milk thick, with the slight hint of bacon grease. And greasy it is!! You know how the more fat in cow milk, the better it tastes? Well, we are actually adding out own special ingrediant into our milk -- fortifying, as we say in 'the milk biz,' with old bacon grease. My wife has been keeping the stuff for years, in neat plastic containers so well marked that we hated to use them... and we never knew what it was for, but the lord works in mysteries, right?
We are going to soon create in the american public an unquenchible thrist for the milk of the mighty pig. To insure this happens, we will go on a celebrity packed tour of the country, in a railroad car with real gold trim all over, and introduce to america the cleanest, most pleasent pig ever (as soon as the donations come in... well, after we get the Tuttle Family Cable Bill Fund up to date). I will dress the blessed porker up, put a yellow, decorative cork in it's rectum to stop unwanted defecation, and also the explosive flautelance and the attendant fart-splatters that leaves specks of poo anyone within ten feet. I swear it spins in circles at such times just to get poo on us -- satan may well be in that piglet, and we are praying over it seven hours a day just in case.
We will be milking lots of other pigs, but the beauty we take out on the road to introduce the wonders of pig milk to the american christian community will be special. She is all white, and nearly as clean as my rectum (like I tell kids when I give them my 'cleanliness is next to godliness' speach -- "I keep mine so gleamingly buffed and cleansed that you can see your reflection in my spincter"). Her name is Susie. And we will probably grow close on all those nights alone in some motel without my wife, forced to snuggle up with a buttonless, sorry looking blind sock puppet. Susie will be lonely, too.
Of course none of the sex stuff reported in the media about me and Susie happened. Where they get the idea that I would cover myself in bacon and masterbate on my front lawn while reading Animal Farm, is beside me. ense.
So, who is up for a thick, rich glass of bacon fat flavored pig milk? Everyone out there will call. I have been praying for as much, and two of the children had visions about this. Ionly had to keep them awake for three days this time to get some fine, fine revelations about everything from the demonic nature of our Playstation 2, and how the angels were now all into the new version, to saving our toe nail clippings in neat photo albums. . . as well as our motto -- Do The Pig, which little moses began to mutter over and over again, and still is here a couple weeks later. He is committed to pig milk in a way we should all aspire to.
Do The Pig!!! As our advertising campaign will say... once the money starts pouring in and I can afford advertisers. I have deposited the children, wearing placards that say, "Do The Pig," at strategic locations around the city to create a 'buzz' in the Greater Fort Wayne Metro Area, and hopefully their 18 hour shifts will result in sufficent donations to do the lord's work... and if not, I will have to assume satan has sabotaged our work, and have to beat the devil out of them... tonight I think I will the riding crop (love that home schooling, huh?)
Scrumptious, bacon greasy flavor aside, like the other products offered by The Tuttle Family Third Church Of The Missing Toe, you will go to hell if you do not order a lot of it. Orders under fifty dollars will not qualify for most after life specials (like a luxury suite we are offering in heaven for a donation of a mere 250.00 dollars, or a good running used car without too much bondo.
So hey, cow milk lovers, don't despair and get all 'satany' about this new commandment -- you are going to love Pig Juice. And yes this is a commandment, and I thought of it only just now... The Buffed One Be Praised for using me as he once did that jew, Moses Spielberg: "Ye, they shall drink pig juice three times a day, and will buy this blessed necter only from the reliable, freindly people at The Tuttle Family Third Church of The Missing Toe." We have even found a way, with my brilliant mind, to milk the male pigs, though we don't get quite as much yummy liquid as do from the females for some reason?
Now, how do I turn this voice activation off. Lord, I will now silently bow my head in prayer and ask you to use your mighty power to shut off this voice activation. Lord be praised, it is off. No, I think it is on. No, dear, it is off. Well, okay dad... but. It is off!!! Now get the hell out of here, harlot. Mom said you weren't supposed to call me a harlot. That harlot told you that? I'm going to have to unplug this thing. I thought you said it was off? It is off. I fear power surges, you know that, child.