Join me on my knees as we pray about the week past.
Emmys. Sometimes, I force myself to watch television awards show just to remind myself of the liberal filth in Hollyweird. It’s not so much the boob tube trash being honored, it’s the trashy boobs I have to see on my tube. While I respect this year’s recognition of non-white people, I simply must comment on some women displaying less than biblical subservient behavior in their choice of attire. That Mexican (whatever) bombshell, Hermana Sofia Vergara, had her golden globes pushed up so far I was afraid she would explode. And Sister Noni Rose? Someone needs to pop your balloons. You ladies take a cue from Sister Fonda. Dress all the way up to the neck, lift a few weights and defy anyone to believe you’re pushing 80. And P.S…….Ariana Grande wants her ponytail back. Praise!
Emasculations. Sister Clinton has been oddly silent since her defeat last November. Clearly, she’s been at her IBM Selectric finishing her book. Now she is making the rounds and letting it all out. Brothers and Sisters, I have heard many grumblings about how she needs to admit she lost and just move on. Now, had she lost to a true statesman of repute, I would agree. However, although she’s a liberal, I have to admit that she needs to make some noise. If our esteemed….no I can’t say that. If our President….no, can’t say that either. If Donald Trump can sit in the Oval Office and tweet drivel on a daily basis, Hillary has a right to utter some of her own fact-based venom in return. And I highly suggest that Sister HRC play a round of golf and aim her hardest drive at the back of a certain poorly coiffed head. FORE!
Embarrassments. Back here in the home of my ministry, our NFL team is limping into the coming season. After a win in their first game, the Dallas Cowboys relished in their unbeaten record. But this wasn’t an LP record. More like the B-side of a 45. (Look it up, children!) Normally, one would think that a Cowboy can master a Bronco, but we are not dealing with ordinary characterizations. Dak and his boys rode into Denver with bravado in their steps. Then proceeded to limp around Bronco Stadium like a bunch of cooked spaghetti while a bunch of pasta-loving broncos had supper. In the Bible, Ezekiel was an esteemed prophet. Unlike the Ezekiel of Cowboys fame. Brother Elliot simply could not have cared less about the game. It is my prayer that the legal system will yank him out of play before I have to go down to JerryWorld and do it myself. Can I get an Amen?