I am not getting older, I am getting better

So today was the last day to elect my measly benefit package.

They want to deduct bazillion dollars to pay for the crappy care I get. But being the nice guys that they are, they are offering me a credit if I pledge to abstain from smoking, drinking and driving, going to the doctor and not to get too depressed.

 They had me fill out a survey;

Do you smoke?

Do you drink?

Do you wear a seatbelt?

Are you in a monogamous relationship and if not are you using protection,

How many alcoholic drinks a day on average do you have?

                (There was only enough room for 2 digits),

Do you use prescription drugs for recreation?

                (Really? there is not enough room on a Xanax to go fishing)

Do you exercise?

                (But they don't let you brag)

They never asked;

How often to you eat at McDonalds

How much red meat do you consume?

Do you use olive oil or corn fat to cook your foods?

How many gallons of sugar soda or monster drinks do you consume in a month

Do you eat movie theater popcorn?

Do you eat bacon?

Do you play real life frogger on I45?

Do you place your self in harm’s way intentionally?

Do you smoke marijuana?

                (They asked about tobacco but nothing else)

You want to know what though?

Last year my health score was 68 and my peer group (people as old as I) 59. Today it was 88 while my peer group was 58. That’s right bitches 88! I am up 20 and you all are down one. So when we are older you can look over at my field and you will see me RUNNING EVERYWHERE!

When the zombies come, and they WILL come, you last sight will be my backside and the bottom of my shoes as I out run them and you are eaten.

In my neighborhood #25

In my neighborhood #25
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx


So it is early Monday morn. I figure it is early enough to get the paper while still in my robe. Robe and slippers, I go outside and there next to the paper is a heap of human parts. Not all bloody, but just a pile of a person. You know this sight when you see your parents passed out drunk on the living room floor enough times.
“Shit!” I think, “Damn! Somebody tied one on and got lost on their way home. I think I will leave them to bake in the sun. When they wake up and their head is pounding and their face is on fire from the noon day sunburn they will learn to not get so fucked up. I get the paper and as an after thought I decide to turn them over so they can get as much sun as possible because Vitamin Q is good for a hang over. As the live corpse rolls over onto its back I see that it is female. I brush back the hair and I see it is Paula Abdul.
I drop the paper and coffee cup and lift her so that I can bring her into the house. Even though she never made queen status she still deserves some mortal respect.
I bring her in and lay her on the couch, cover her with a blanket and fix myself a new cup of coffee and turn on the television and search for some morning cartoons.
I make sure to keep the volume down so the noise does not disturb Paula.
I find and old episode of “Spiderman”.
Then an old episode of “Autobots”, the undisputed godfather of the transformers, came on.
Half way through an episode of the PC whimp-i-fied GI Joe, Paula starts screaming.
I drop my coffee and yelp, “Shit!”
She sits bolt upright and looks around. “Hey where am I?”
“You are at my house” I said in a very calm voice, and I get up to get a towel.
“John? Right?” She says as if lost education is ebbing on her memory tide.
“Yes.” I replied.
“The last thing I remember was getting a call in the middle of the night and it was Janet and she was telling me I was fat and stupid. She said that I danced like a cow all stomping and hoofing around.” She said pulling the blanket I had laid on her up to her chin.
“Janet?” I asked more for affirmation then information.
“Yeah Janet Jackson.” She said as she let go of a violent shiver. “She has had it in for me since I tried to start a singing career while I was her choreographer.”
“Really?” I sounded like I did not believe her even though I tried to be more believable.
And Paula began her story. “Yeah I was helping her when she was starting and I gave her some of her best moves. When she found that I was working in a studio developing a record. She got real mad and tried to file an injunction on the record, but there were no real legal grounds even though she tried to portray me as an industrial spy. Then she got Michael involved.”
“Michael Jackson?” I said wondering how long the high lasts when you get toasted on scripts.
“Yeah and he called some heavy weights and they called in the corporate ninjas and they crushed my record sales by diverting orders and killing radio programmers who would not play ball.”
“When all was said and done it appeared as though no-one was interested in my music.”
“The record companies would not touch me. And I was black balled by the Jackson Clan.”
“I found a bottle of Oxycotton in my nightstand one night while I was depressed. I have never done drugs or drank before, but it seemed like a good way to make it all numb and go away. Next thing you know I am all fucked up on Idol. Yeah that back fired on them. That gig was a bone thrown to me by the Jackson Clan. They thought it, the show, would make one or two seasons and flop out. Little did they know it would balloon to such a huge success. I get clean and then some ninja slips me some pills and I fall off the wagon.”
“Wow, Paula that is an amazing story and almost believable, but as you know I am equipped with a very powerful bullshit detector.” I said standing up.
“No it is true.” She said pleading, “And Janet heard of my secret project to record another album and she has started the attacks all over again.” She said pulling her legs up into a ball.
“You know Paula if you want to get fucked up and wander the neighborhood then just get fucked up and start walking, but you do not have to make up stories of ninjas and career killers and Jackson conspiracies.” I said looking down at this frail, old, fucked up woman.
“No John it is true.” She says sitting up.
Just then the front door opens with a splintering crash. And Half Dollar piles in with two ninjas.
“Ninjas!” Paula screams
“Half Dollar!” I yell laughing hysterically.
I began my fight prayer, “Dear god make me strong to vanquish your enemies. Make them taste their blood like their sins and help them find their way to your grace and loving light.” And a column of fire rains from the sky through my ceiling and vaporizes the ninjas.
Half Dollar looks back surprised and shaken from the display of god’s wrath.
He charges raising an axe handle. I step up and into him just under his arm which removes the threat of the axe handle. I head butt him, he drops the axe handle and he grapples me.
We struggle in the foray and stumble around. Paula is standing and screaming.
Half Dollars breath is hideous. My god what had this fucker been eating? It was a cross between peanuts and morning breath
We bounce off the walls and into the nearby hall towards the half bath, decorated in romantic.
The room is small and the two of us take up most of the cubic footage.
I get the doorway to my back and clap my hands on his Volkswagen door ears.
He yelps and lets go, I step back and spin him. I plant a foot on his ass and shove.
He hits the wall bounces back and I kick again he lurches forward trips on a Persian throw rug and falls forward.
His hands are still on his ears and he falls into the toilet hitting his head. He goes limp.
‘Man what the fuck?’
‘Another dead star in my house.’
‘Shit! Fuck! Shit!’
“Oh no this is not happening.” I say out loud
“Paula is screaming.”
“No way am I going to deal with this shit again.” I say out loud to myself.
I start to drag Half Dollar’s body out the back door.
“What are you doing to do with him?” Paula asks.
“I am going to bury him in the back yard.” I grunt as I drag this 140 pound fake thug.
“But won’t he be missed?” Paula asks as the whole thing starts to sink in.
“No he is an irrelevant, dime-a-dozen rap thug that no-one loves or likes. Hell I just did the entire white teenage listening demographic a favor. Now they have one last choice to spend their money on.”
“I do not know if I can be a part of this.” Paula says shaking her head and shrinking back.
“What? Are you kidding? I never asked you to be a part of this.” Not believing the whussiness of this near icon.
“Shit tomorrow you will not remember today and no one will believe you anyways.” I said more mean than I meant to.
“That’s not fair.” Paula pouted.
“Its true enough though isn’t it?” I directed with the intensity of a persecutor about to stick the charge.
“Yes.” She looks down and fattens her lower lip like all girls do.
“Alright then the shovel is in the shed and the bag of lye is kept in a plastic bucket under the ladders.” I grunted as I slid the skinny little fake poser out the door.
“What do you have lye for?” she stops on the way to the shed.
“Ahh,” I paused. “I do not know, making soap and bio-diesel?”
“Really? That is cool and she shuffles to the shed.”
I spend a good portion of Monday afternoon digging. Paula disappeared around the first hour.
Half Dollar is buried in the back yard and now I am fixing the front door.
Johnny Cash would be proud of me but I will never tell him or anyone.
If this bullshit keeps up I am going to have to move. Regardless of the market.



Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

Also reading

With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

In my neighborhood #24

In my neighborhood #24
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx


The neighborhood does not allow garage sales every weekend. There would be certain individuals that would have a sale every weekend capitalizing on their name more than just getting rid of their unwanted junk.
Metallica, Slayer to name a couple. They would buy other peoples junk to put in their sale so people would buy Metallica’s old toilet or Slayer’s broken weed eater.
We have garage sales as a community twice to three times a year. This means that our neighborhood can look like a trailer park all at once. And only one weekend.
Today I had some stuff to sell so I bought a permit and moved my garage to the driveway.
Henry was on tour and he left me his keys. I piled his mail up on the dining room table and made sure that his two cats “Spoon” and “Mr. Snuggles” are watered and fed. And I grabbed some of Henry’s junk too.
Now do not get me wrong I grabbed stuff he would not really need. Like his African fertility statues, WHAT IN THE WORLD is a guy like Henry need fertility statues for and at his age? And those tribal masks that were really made in China that looked like dark boogey men faces.
I was sitting in the shade waiting for the traffic to sift down to my corner of the subdivision when I heard same yelling down the street. There is always yelling now and again, but this sounded like trouble.
“No Old man you do not know what you are talking about.”
Hmmm I better investigate.
I start walking down to the left by Hammer’s house. Hammer had quite a collection of jammies for sale or maybe they were parachute pants. I do not know but it was a large rack of them.
Living next to Hammer is Chuck Berry.
Chuck had some old furniture and old guitars out for sale. And a collection of bells, ceramic bells from all over the world. Chuck collected bells who knew?
At the curb was one of the new guys P. Diddy, John Paul, and some guy named “Half Dollar” and some skanky broad I have never seen before and Rihanna. They were all yelling up the drive way to Chuck.
“You old man,” Half Dollar yelled, waving his hands around like in his videos. “Are so out of it you think you know, but you know nothing.”
“Hell diaper boy I was in the pussy before you were coming out of your momma’s.”
“Leave my momma out of this.”
“Shit boy you walk around here holding your dick with your pants falling down. You do not know anything.”
“Hey, hey,” I interrupt “What’s the problem.”
P. Diddy tells me that they were looking at Chuck’s sale stuff and the Rihanna wanted to know about the old guitar and Chuck said he would make a deal with her. I knew what he meant and I called him out.
“No P. Diddy you do not call Chuck out. He will eat you alive AND make you his bitch. You have nothing on him.”
“Yeah you think so?”
“Yeah I know so.”
“Look I am sure it was a mis-understanding.”
“No it weren’t reverend.” Chuck yelled and I rolled my eyes. “I know my women, not like these shit stained little momma’s boys.”
“You have no concept of pussy, no concept of how to treat it, or tease it. You just want to own it, but what you don’t know is for a real man, pussy owns you! You have to treat it like a queen or it will tear you up.”
“Yeah tell me another story old man.” Half Dollar rolls his eyes and fingers his Pontiac Symbol Necklace.
“You better not old man me. I know my pussy, I know my music and I know I will whoop your ass.” Chuck said coming down a few step rolling up his sleeves.
Half dollar pulled out a .38 pistol.
I moved so fast the “Dollar” guy never saw it coming. I grabbed the pistol and hit him on the side of his head with it.
“What are you doing?” I screeched at him. “Pulling a gun out on Chuck. He does not have a gun.”
“No-one is gonna disrespect me.”
“What disrespect, Half Dollar? You want to tell me?”
“He is right you thugs walk around here like the fucking bulls in prison and you do not know shit from shine-ola.”
“Chuck here made a complement to Rihanna and you girls want to shoot him.”
“What the fuck?”
P. Diddy made a step towards me and I kicked him in the crotch and he just stood there. I looked at Chuck and we both started laughing.
Diddy picked Half Dollar off the ground and they started back to their house.
“C’Mon Rihanna!”
“I will be there in a bit.” And she started up the drive to talk to Chuck about the guitar.
Diddy and Half turned and started to charge up Chuck’s lawn.
Chuck stepped up and clothes lined Diddy putting him on his back.
Half Dollar turned and started towards him again.
Chuck dropped back into a martial arts stance. When Half was within range Chuck began to do Kung Fu on Half Dollar’s ass. Chuck beat he shit out of him. Only stopping when Rihanna stepped up cryin “No Chuck, don’t hurt him anymore.”
P. Diddy was still on the ground holding his throat and crying silent tears.
Half dollar tried to move but he had no strength and gave up to bleed into Chucks lawn.
Rihanna rubbed Half’s shoulder. “You ok baby? You ok?”
I went over to P. Diddy and bent over him.
“Can you breathe?”
He nodded.
“Then I suggest you get up and leave. Because I think Chuck is about to pee on you both. I turned to look at Chuck. We shared a smile.
P. Diddy got up and staggered to Half Dollar and helped him get up.
“Stupid old man.”
Chuck yelled “This stupid old man just schooled your punk-ass, now git before I get angry.”
Chuck you know they are gonna get their posse and come back.
No they are not. I hit them both with the Tibetan monk transsexual implosion punch. They are both gonna turn into women and then they are gonna have a real tough time.
We laughed and laughed.
The traffic started to pick up so I went home to find someone had stolen all of my junk.
Wendy was in her driveway and she had a smile on her face.
I thought about asking her if she knew what happened to my stuff, but, shit, Wendy scares the shit out of me. It is best for me to just go inside, butter up and sit at the knot hole. Someone has to keep an eye on those lesbians.




Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007..

Also reading

With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2008..

10 albums to fuck your head up to

Mr. Jones challenged my self to list 10 albums
Here they are in no order and probably fucked up anyways


Rob Zombie - Hellbilly Deluxe i do not know why i listen but i do and i listen at max volume in the can and i find my self screaming the lyrics at the light.

Black Flag - Jealous again. angry fucking angry, fast because thats what gets us off and short because that is how long the inspiration lasts

CRASS - Christ The Album. experimental, communal, nearly a religious experience for me at the time but now i think my hearing loss has increased because i can not see it any more

Bozo Porno Circus - Sins Of The New Flesh DVD some very weird fucking odd shit happens here and i all i can saw is that i would have never explored this genre had it not be by accident at textamerica.com

Motorhead - Ace of Spades You know i was born to lose and gambling's for fools but thats the way i like it you can not live for ever

Lewd - American Wino i had the biggest crush on the bass player and tried many time to be a groupie but always always failed to make the hookup.

Beastie Boys - Time To Get Ill. WTF can be said sharp witty funny and the best anthem to ever be written

ACDC - Back In Black although at the release of this album i hated the band and anything to do with these guys because their followers were always trying to run me down beat me up or they were just fucking with me too much of the time.

Tales Of Terror - Tales Of Terror although I was not in the band but this was a very strong influence on my life. I realized on their return from a US tour that things have changed and that drugs were a very very bad thing to fuck with.

Wire - Pink Flag odd weird and rough and raw loved the album so much i stole it from someone

Eater - The Album you know i saw this in my collection. i do not own a turntable so i can not listen any more so i sold it. This was one of the few that went out that i kind of regret even though i can not recall a single audio memory. Note - fire up Google tonight and look for some mp3s

Tank - Filth Hounds of Hades What can I say "Hated you for far too long, you're just so damn polite"

The Damned - Damned Damned Damned. With headphones on many hours listening to this so that the memories of how horrible my life was drowned out.

Currently reading Like A Monkey With A Handgun By Rev. J. Sleestaxx Release date: By 3 December, 2007

In the darkest depths of myself I have a monster.

In the darkest depths of myself I have a monster. This monster is the alter ego of yours truly. When rage anger and hate well up into the back of my throat and choke out any resemblance of reason and logic. The monster comes to life.
This is the time the monster bursts into my gray matter ravaging and screaming about the injustices that have befallen me over the course of my terrible rotten life.
This beast puffs and bellows to the point that all real vision is obscured and eclipsed. I begin to operate on "the force" I can not really see any more but I can "feel" the world around me.
My senses go on crimson alert. I hear every child being abused, I hear every women being hit. My whole body is aflame and I very calmly beat the living shit out of people.
I say calmly because they can "tap" out. They can feign unconsciousness and they have the option to not get up.
For some reason they think they should keep moving, they feel that at some point they will get the upper hand. They are wrong. Christ they are wrong. And when I am done they will know they were wrong for weeks and weeks.
Just such an episode occurred yesterday at the mall.
I was shopping for a pair of umpire pants heather grey with a nice cuff. They were going to be my field pants for when I do the bases so I can look a bit sharper. The season is starting in a few weeks
I was heading to Sears and I was passing a gentleman and his wife, who was crying, he turned and grabbed her arm real hard like and yelled at her through clenched teeth.
As he turned back into a forward position I slammed into his shoulder.
“Oops sorry.” I said.
“Watch where you are going asshole!”
“Now listen here you fucking piece of shit, you fucking retard with a small dick I said I was sorry”
“What did you say?”
“I said that you were a retard, you had a small dick, and I said you were a piece of shit and that I was sorry.” The biggest smile on my face.
He swung, I ducked and came up with an upper cut to the solar plexus, just below the breast bone, I felt my fist embed into the abdomen and he lifted off his feet and then fell.
I said “Do not get up. I will have to defend myself.”
He got up and said I am going to beat your ass.
No you are not and I began to box his forehead, his nose and his left cheek.
I jabbed and crossed and jabbed some more. I would stop and step back. He would totter and then he would lunge at me.
And I would do this again.
On the second lunge he more like fell on me and I threw an arm into the crotch and the left over his shoulder and I picked him up and slammed him to the ground.
He stopped moving his chest heaving and his woman crying.
She dropped to his side, "Richard oh Richard are you ok?" then she looked at me and said "What is your problem? He did nothing to you"
“What did you miss the part where he swung at me?"
“So? You did not have to beat him up.”
“Hey lady he gave him every opportunity to step down.” Came from some guy behind me.
I looked and there was a considerable crowd gathering.
“Fuck it and fuck you bitch” and I turned to go.
The crowd looked at me and at first was not going to part but I made a motion like I was going to charge and they jumped, what a bunch of sheep.
You see I have a monster in me. I like this monster and I enjoy visiting with the monster now and again.
I enjoy the buzz I get from touching the emotions that feed it. Why?? I do not know. Some freaks like pain. Some freaks like to inflict pain. There are some that like to see food being destroyed by pretty feet. I knew a guy that liked to wax his whole body and wear women’s undergarments. I like to get very angry. I do not have to beat anyone. I can just get enraged and enjoy the hot flush that covers my body. The heat that burns in my chest. Hell maybe I am a freak too. But who cares. Not you! And not anyone else.
Hate, anger, and rage is my porn, what is yours??

Currently reading Like A Monkey With A Handgun By Rev. J. Sleestaxx Release date: By 3 December, 2007

Our World Is Going To Hell In A Hand Basket By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

The Basket Is Labeled MTV



Our society is under siege. Our defenses are tuned to the wrong enemy. While we fight for our country and our security and what we hold near and dear our future is being attacked.
The enemy is right inside of our houses and the center point of many of our lives.
I am talking about the television and the content that is on the television. Our future is our children and they are under attack every minute of every day while they are watching television. I see it everyday when I am plagued with nightmares. I see it everyday when I turn on the television just to get the news of the day and the weather.
I see it when I see 12 year old girls dressed like hookers and whores and the boys dressed like they live in the ghetto. Mind you these clothes look like ghetto but they are clean and expensive name brands but none the less they wear the shit baggy and loose and they strut like the shit heads that rap.
The kids do nothing but look for things that make them happy. The kids today think they are the most important thing and their happiness is more important.

2Ti 3:4
treacherous, reckless, conceited, loving pleasure rather than loving God.

Eze 11:2
The Lord said to me, “Son of man, these are the men who plot evil and give wicked advice in this city.

I would like to talk about the sinners at MTV. The pretentious sinners of MTV. The perpetrators of sin propaganda and brainwashers of our youth. The world is going to hell in a hand basket and the basket is labeled MTV. MTV displays near nudity and alternative life styles. As if these are normal things in the world. The broadcast station purports that loose sexual morals are cool, hip, and that only the smart cool kids are having sex. And to be right in the universe and to be accepted is to have sex with as many people as possible and as often as you can.

Jer 23:14
But I see the prophets of Jerusalem doing something just as shocking. They are unfaithful to me and continually prophesy lies. So they give encouragement to people who are doing evil, with the result that they do not stop their evildoing. I consider all of them as bad as the people of Sodom and the citizens of Jerusalem as bad as the people of Gomorrah.

MTV and the rest of television content for that matter is teaching every one of our young people, you know the ones that will be in charge of our world very shortly, that everyone is gay and everyone wants to be gay and that being gay is ok.

1Co 6:9
Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived! The sexually immoral, idolaters, adulterers, passive homosexual partners, practicing homosexuals,


They say that you should live in a strange city, with very dysfunctional people, and have your dysfunctional life and personal drama splayed out for the world to see. You should have sex with you house mates and that is ok. you should drink to the point of poisoning and throw up and then fight with your housemates. MTV shows videos that purports that is cool to be a pimp or a girl with loose morals. It is the way of the world to be a criminal and carry a gun.

1Ti 1:10
sexually immoral people, practicing homosexuals, kidnappers, liars, perjurers – in fact, for any who live contrary to sound teaching.

Why just last week I saw a teenager in my neighborhood walking the street like he was a gangster in the city. He had a paper bag in his hand and this bag was not like a bag he had just got from shopping at the gas station, this bag was well worn and the object inside was too small to be a porno mag like when I was young.
I knew where he lived as I had cut his lawn for many summers and watched this spoiled middle class punk grow up. I had spoken to father and mother many times. I knew they worked hard to keep their young from being exposed to bad influences.
I stopped got out of my truck. I asked him what was in the bag and where did he live.
Yes I was confronting a middle class gangster wanna be.
He took the posture of a rap singer posing for a CD cover.
He told me "That is none of your business old man". "I do not have to tell you anything."
I stepped to him and I said, “Son tell me what you are doing on this middle class street pretending to be a gang member.”
“I ain't pretending you old fart.”

Ecc 7:10
Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these days?” for it is not wise to ask that.

“Yeah ok your parents are filing a 1040a with a combined income of 80k or better and you want to tell me know about oppression and being poor?"
“Just tell me you ain't got a gun in bag and I will not tell your daddy what a moron you are.”
He gets very agitated and says "you think I got a gun in here man? is that it? Well you better step before I put you under."
I stepped closer
I was now in striking distance
I reached out, and bitch slapped his ass and he staggers back. I do not think he has ever been hit in his life. he just stood there and looked at me in total shock. Trying to comprehend the last moment.

Num 22:29
And Balaam said to the donkey, “You have made me look stupid; I wish there were a sword in my hand, for I would kill you right now.”

I reached down took the bag from him.
Yeah there was the .38 pistol fully loaded. This stupid middle class spoiled punk was holding a gun in a bag on a quiet suburban street.
I smacked him again "What are you doing? Are you protecting your turf from the Chinese mafia?? What?” I yelled into his face, “Are you worried that your hoes were going to get the wandering eye?"
“Are you dealing heron, smack, horse, china white and you are worried about some crazy strung out junkie jumping you for your stash??”
I smacked him again and he held his face and began to cry. Clearly this dumb piece of shit had never been hit in his life.
"Go tell your daddy I have his gun and to come see me."
Stupid fucking kids.

Jer 51:17
All idolaters will prove to be stupid and ignorant. Every goldsmith will be disgraced by the idol he made. For the image he forges is merely a sham. There is no breath in any of those idols.

MTV's shows have young adults in various stages of undress touching and gyrating and simulating sex. They have fat over the hill singers stumbling over stage. They have plastic Jews telling stupid moronic jokes to propped up drunken slobs from the entertainment industry.
They portray the life of young Americans as nothing but a fucking party. It is no wonder that foreigners hate us and talk about us like we are idiots. if it is wet stick it in and worry not about any consequences. "Just Do It."
There was no fucking party when I grew up! And I know there was not fucking party when you grew up either.

Neh 6:9
All of them were wanting to scare us, supposing, “Their hands will grow slack from the work, and it won’t get done.” So now, strengthen my hands!

Every real life problem can be distilled and solved in 30 mins from drug addiction to sex addition. It takes a life time to crawl from the gutter to the sidewalk to a house. It takes a life time to realize that your mother does not love you. It takes a life time to come to terms with the evil that has been thrusted on you.
Sometimes it takes longer. There are people that I know from long ago that are still in the mess they call life. It can not be taken care with a few well placed jokes and catch phrases.

Hos 10:13
But you have plowed wickedness; you have reaped injustice; you have eaten the fruit of deception. Because you have depended on your chariots; you have relied on your many warriors.


[Showing my middle finger] FUCK YOU MTV!
[Showing my middle finger] FUCK YOU!

Jer 5:27
Like a cage filled with the birds that have been caught, their houses are filled with the gains of their fraud and deceit. That is how they have gotten so rich and powerful.


[Showing my middle finger] FUCK YOU Entertainment tonight!
[Showing my middle finger] FUCK YOU Music industry!
[Showing my middle finger] FUCK YOU Hollywood
[Showing my middle finger] FUCK YOU Real Life!
Nothing fucking real about that show other than the stupidity and moronic actions of the youth that are being exploited.
MTV reports that everybody is in need of surgical perfection regardless of the danger. That you are not right until you have had half a dozen surgeries to correct the perfection that god made.


2Th 2:10
and with every kind of evil deception directed against those who are perishing, because they found no place in their hearts for the truth so as to be saved.

People die everyday from surgery and everyday someone watches television and decide they could look better if they had surgery. People die everyday pimping, dealing, whoring, and being a gangster but everyday MTV tells our youth that it is cool to do these things
I would like to hear tales of how the dogs of the south and the hounds of hell descended and copulated with the dead bodies of MTV producers, writers and directors.

Jer 22:17
But you are always thinking and looking for ways to increase your wealth by dishonest means. Your eyes and your heart are set on killing some innocent person and committing fraud and oppression.

I would like to see MTV setup up a reality show following a few junkies and whores around the city trying to scrape a living and an existence. Maybe follow a drug dealer to a turf war and watch his body twitch and jerk as his blood ran onto the street.
How about following a couple of runaways and see the twisted ways they are made to keep alive on the street.

Pro 12:24
The diligent person will rule, but the slothful will become a slave.

I want to thank everyone who has helped in the building of the youth center. I want to thank everyone for the wonderful donations to furnish the center. I want to thank the single mothers group for the house cleaning they provide the rectory and the church.
I want to thank the women’s auxiliary for the coffee and donuts that are waiting for us in the foyer.
I would like to thank the choir for the lovely singing they provided today.
And I would like to thank Demarini for the baseball bat sponsorship.
Please honk in the parking lot so that I may test my new bats.


Go in peace and love they neighbor

Like A Monkey With A Handgun By Rev. J. Sleestaxx Release date: By 3 December, 2007..