"Last night, I was awakened from a fitful sleep, shortly after two o'clock in the morning by a shrill, sibilant, faceless voice. I couldn't make it out at first in the dark bedroom. And I said, 'I'm sorry, you will have to talk a little louder.'
And the Voice said to me: 'I want you to tell the people the truth, not an easy thing to do because the people don't want to know the truth.'
And I said, 'You're kidding. What the the hell should I know about the truth?'
But the Voice said to me: 'Don't worry about the truth. I will put the words in your mouth.'
And I said, 'What is this, the burning bush? For God's sake, I'm not Moses.'
And the Voice said to me: 'And I'm not God. What has that got to do with it?'
And I said, 'Why me?'
And the voice said:
'Because you're on television, dummy.'"
Oh, well. Maybe The 700 Club will hire Diana Christensen to improve the ratings. She knows what to do in cases like this.
5 comments:
I'm just so tired of him saying dumbsh!t stuff like this. What on earth is the man thinking?
The man thrives on close shaves. Or is it Chavez?
Through the shame and humiliation of the public scandals of the priest sex-abuse revelations, there was at least one thought that kept hope alive for the faithful: "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, thank God and the saints that at least I don't have to apologize for Pat Robertson too."
Is there actually anyone still paying attention to this bag of balloon juice after that stupid B.S. justifying Chinese forced abortions? If he gets any weirder he's going to have to spend his dotage playing shuffleboard with Fred Phelps.
But I really liked Virginia Beach as a vacation spot. Sort of a poor man's Riviera-meets-Coney-Island.
I always thought of Virginia Beach as more of an "Ocean City with government monopoly liquor stores."
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