My name is Jesse Jesus Sock and I’m a prophet out of my own head. God lives inside my skull. Not your skull. Only mine.
Ain’t you the dude who predicted the end of World War II fifty years after it happened?
Don’t call me dude or any other. Do not ever say that word again!
I won’t. Please do not bathe me in fire!
Oh… Alright. Not THIS time. Okay, Okay… Stop sucking my fingers. I fucked up the World War II prophecy. I was seven years old when I intoned that revelation.
When I was seven years old I could dunk a basketball.
When you were seven you still licked the snot off your sister’s face. Time Fucking Magazine said I was brilliant, articulate, and wrong.
Piss on a rug! Drink yourself to death! Decapitate your neighbor as yourself!
Hooo! Yooo! Gag! Spit! (and so forth)
Alright, settle down. They call me the Revelator! I never asked for this honorific, I crawled on my knees begging for it. You see, I don’t have a brain in my head. Artistic talent have I not and I tried them all.
Hey, Mr. Bathe in the Ganges Man. What effect is the plague having on the children?
Our precious ones
You hate your children. I hate them, too. You flatter yourselves into thinking that your parenting has molded them in anything other than nasty deceiving dung beetles.
Your influence over them stops at age ten when they gotcha down cold. Now some parents think a simple family is not good enough. They want to form a cult with their offspring. the Cult of the Fishers, or the Westovals, or the Shmucks. The Iscariots. Mold them into fat, fighting, farting, cocksuckers!
Greasy, undersexed, pussy rats!
Lead men into battle.You think any of them went to ‘Nam
Ha, ha. Fuck no!
My mommy sucked cocks. In the Navy.
That’s the spirit! Crucify these people. That’ll shape them up.
Look, I got hours of fresh Japanese porn to review. Chippy the Child Molester and Creepy Pete will be around to collect your free will offerings.
Next week, bring your goddamn friends. If you don’t have any, make them up. Tie them up and drag them here. Revenue! I need revenue!