Chapter 5 The Birth of Israel (part 3) Saturday, Mar 20 2010 

Chagall turns shit-faced into art

As promised, I have returned in less than seven years. In recapsys: Jacob is about to experience unenlightening karma by getting fucked by his uncle, or, the deceiver is about to be deceived by a deceiver. Synopsoendo.

And here then is the befallification of the fuckarma and deceptorama, or, what happened: seven years of masturbation ended, leaving Jacob’s right palm perfectly smooth like the inside of a Teflon tube. A big marriage feast was held for Jacob and Rachel, where at our groom got totally drunk and went reeling from girl to girl yelling semi-coherently, “Time to fuck, Rachel!” or, “Come on, Rachel, I want to gnaw on you!”

Uncle Laban, shrewd himself, saw an opportunity. Finally he would turn his older daughter, Leah’s, ugliness into profit. More of a profit, that is, than having her work as one of his subservient women from birth until death. A little ramble about ugliness, though. Ugliness tends to take on one of two sets of psychosis amongst the ‘fairer’ sex: set one is the sweaty, angry, overweight lesbian; and set two are those who volunteer at the SPCA.

But let us not get lost in dark and demonic imagery. Back to Laban’s tit bearing balance sheet! Instead of getting hot, voluptuous, totally full of herself and recently post-pubescent Rachel as promised, a totally shit faced Jacob staggered into the marriage tent with Leah, and managed to project an erection long enough to put ‘pen to paper’, although without any man-ink.

The horror! The horror! And Thriller came to life

Jacob woke up the next morning to horror! The kind of horror that Kurtz could not even have imagined! He ran unto Laban and said, “The horror! The horror! Somebody set fire to Rachel’s face last night and then with a tent hammer tried to put it out!”

“What are you talking about, putz?” Laban scoffed. “Here Rachel is.”

“What the fuck! Who put the mangled donkey in my bed?”

“That mangled donkey, as you describe my daughter so affectionately, is Leah.”

Oh my Yahweh! Did you deliberately exchange daughters while sleeping I was, as a joke?” asked Jacob in anguish and desperate hope.

“Ha ha! You schmuck! If you want your dreams to come true, don’t sleep, and don’t get drunk neither!”

“Cheated me, you have! Oy vey! When a thief kisses you, count your teeth.” raved Jacob

“Talk, you should! What about Esau, your brother? The story I know. Twice now you have cheated that hulk. He’s lucky to still have gums! May all your teeth fall out except one, so that you can have a toothache!”

“Seven years have I worked for Rachel! Seven years!” exclaimed Jacob in exasperation.

“I should pay him for such devoted service?” said Laban to Rachel with a shrug. “Gut, Jacob, A deal I will make you. Finish a week of duties with Leah, and after that Rachel I will give you. But conditions there are!”

“He who has burned his mouth blows his soup!”

Stop kvetching and decide! And enough with the mouth parables already!”

Authentic Rachel portrait. In those days they only had b&w film

And thus, Jacob, who took advantage of the weaknesses of others in order to deceive them, i.e. his own brother and father, was about to be deceived by his uncle who was taking advantage of Jacob’s weakness for Rachel. As for that beautiful bitch, Rachel, she didn’t exactly stop Jacob the night before from plooking Leah, who didn’t exactly stop Jacob either. Sweet family!

But Jacob, seeing the whole crooked plot laid bare still couldn’t say no, and looking upon Rachel’s flawless face, luscious lips, bulging boobies and heavenly hips replied, “Anything, Laban, anything!”

An anything that turned out to be another seven years of work for his uncle!

But them seven years weren’t all drudgery of flock tending and impregnation of troll for Jacob. O no, my devoted flock who pay homage to hunky Heysoos! During that time Jacob would nurse his comeuppance, impregnate his wives, rape his servants and sell himself as a manwhore for bits of twig and root. In fact, Genesis thirty is entirely dedicated to a fuck and rapefest, which goes like this: Jacob fucks Rachel but she can’t get pregnant…Rachel gives her maidservant to Jacob…Jacob rapes Rachel’s maidservant, repeatedly…maidservant pops out a couple o kids…Jacob fucks Leah the troll but now she can’t get pregnant…Leah gives her maidservant to Jacob… Jacob rapes Leah’s maidservant, repeatedly…maidservant pops out a couple o kids… Rachel pimps Jacob to Leah for bits of twig and root…Jacob fucks Leah…Leah gets preggie again…Jacob fucks Rachel some more and finally she does get pregnant.

Babies are not brought by Stalks. They come from the mud

A very romantic story, indeed, but aren’t you a little curious about Jacob’s ass being bought for bits of twig and root? Mandrake twig and root, to be precise: poison, hallucinogen, aphrodisiac and the number one date rape drug of the ancients. No wonder Leah was ready for a bust up over them, for you see, Jacob had lost all interest in her maharama by then, it being broken in and loosened up by four babies. Anyway, the pillage of tight, virgin maidservant was much more to his liking, and Rachel, still hot and childless, was good for a ride too. And thus, crushing a few milligrams of Mandrake into Jacob’s stew, Leah the mangled mule assured herself of a heady night’s drug-induced fuckfest.

And if you have ever taken the time to read that most holy and wonderful bible, you would notice this: practically no daughters were being born. Adam, Cain, Lot, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob; son after son after son! 2200 years of sons! By the time Jacob came around, where were they getting the girls to impregnate, because there seemed to be no shortage of chicks to bang and/or rape? The truly inspired and marvelous bible did not forget about women so much as overlook them. They were worthless; except of course the ones who were sex goddesses, could give birth to scores of sons or were really good at housework and running a business.

Back to superior men though, like Jacob. After Rachel bore him his first son, Joseph, he went to Laban and said, “If you are bitter at heart, sugar in the mouth will not help you. I am homesick is what I am saying, Laban. I want to go home!”

“Fourteen years with the mouth parables, already! But still, I’d rather you stayed. A good business partner you’ve been! We’ve got these goy yutzen eating out of our hands!

“Business has been good, Laban.” Jacob answered, “But mama, she always complains. ‘You never write’ she says , ‘you never visit’ she says. I should go home.”

“Name your commission and you’ve got it.” said Laban.

If Jewish criminals were as stupid as Virgil, the world would be much safer

This naturally stopped Jacob in his tracks. All the years of plotting a comeuppance and stewing in a pot of reverse deception came to fruition. Instant custard! Voila! Spotting a chink in Laban’s armor, Jacob was ready for some more LORD endorsed (allegedly) cheatery. The time was almost ripe for the deceiver who was deceived by a deceiver to deceive that deceiver. The air was thick with the pungent and exciting zephyr of deceptionari! Deception! Deception! Deception! Followed by piousness, of course!

And which will follow the next time I grace the blogoshere with my awesome presence. But not before I say this: there is a totally hot earth babe with great powers of perception: she adores my gorgeous aura, muscular loins and powerful buttocks periodically through poetry, song, a rubberized device and her blog. Go ye forth to her praising and be filled with Holy Communion in the spirit of moi!

One final admonition, tireless and faithful flock: Follow my daily pearls of wisdom on Twitter or I will scratch thou name from the scroll of life. Otherwise, I love you all!


Chapter 5 The Birth of Israel (part 2) Monday, Mar 15 2010 

Do not feed to young babies

Twice swindled by the naughty machinations of Jacob, Esau was in a quandary of incertitude, fueled by chagrin and humiliating demotion. In other words, he was pretty fucking pissed! And he did burst forth as a carbuncle might explode in all its pus filled splendor suchlike: “Dad’s not the only one who is going to take a dirt nap soon! I am going to kill that puny son-of-a-bitch, Jacob!”

But he didn’t really mean it, as you’ll find out in three biblical mega-poops, or chapters. In fact, as you will discover later, Esau was a pretty magnanimous brute, and if God had decided to bless either one of the twins, which he didn’t, it shoulda been Esau.

Surprise, surprise! Guess who ‘overheard’ this outburst? Rebekah! As usual she was sneaking about; plotting, conniving, wringing her hands and occasionally making a chicken soup. Filled with motherly concern, for one son anyway, she sent for Jacob and said, “Your poor mama, Jacob! Will I lose both my sons today? You have to run away immediately!”

“What’s going on, mama?”

“Esau wants to kill you. You! And you’re such a nice boy! Pack your bag, don’t forget to put on a sweater and go to my brother Laban for a while; until this all blows over. And don’t forget to write once in a while! Oy! My poor heart! I only wanted what was best for you. Now don’t let your old mother down and break her heart, you hear?”

“Mama, that’s hundreds of miles from here! Maybe I could just lay low in my tent for a few days.”

“You want Esau should kill you? You want your poor mother should die of grief? If that’s what you want, fine, stay here.”

“Okay, mama. I’ll go,” Jacob said dejectedly.

A truly disgusting Hittite!

But Rebekah was one crafty bitch, people! Next she would need to convince her husband, Isaac, to command Jacob to leave. So she pulled out the guilt painted race card and played it to perfection, all the while guiding Isaac towards her decision that Jacob must flee, without him ever getting wind of her involvement in defrauding her other son, Esau. This is what she said:  “I am disgusted with living because of these Hittite women. If Jacob takes a wife from among the women of this land my life will not be worth living. I will die, Isaac, I will simply die! You want this, Isaac? You want my blood on your hands? Have I not been a good wife?”

And so Isaac ‘commanded’ Jacob not to marry a Canaanite woman; many of whom were very nice, down to earth and innocent young maidens, but to trek 600 miles and marry a cousin, which was kind of a family tradition by then.

Jacob was a good boy. He did as he was commanded and he wore a sweater too, despite the desert heat which was slowly baking to his head to brain pie. Suffering from severe sunstroke, yet, still wearing his very fluffy jumper when he arrived at some shithole called Bethel, he began to hallucinate. He saw what he could only describe as a stairway. In fact, he was having a vision of a water slide, which would only be invented by Herbert W Sellner 3900 years later. And the angels of God in Speedos, and the cherubs in thongs, were whizzing down, splashing and screaming in delight thereupon.

In the days before elevators

There above it he did see the amusement park owner who said, “I am the LORD God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac and the proprietor of this awesome water slide, although not its inventor: the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed, despite thou being a devious little shit, unlike thy masculine and simple brother, Esau; And thy seed shall be as the dirt, um, I mean dust of the earth, and thou shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south: and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed, except of course when thou maneuver war and disaster through thine banks and media concerns. And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, except of course when thou goest to gas chambers, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee, until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of.”

Stroked out or not, Jacob, picking up a small stone, and remaining crafty and ungrateful to the last said, “If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and sweaters to put on, then shall the LORD be my God. Deal?”

And seeing as it was Jacobs’ hallucination, why wouldn’t the LORD agree He was only worth being served if He first did something for Jacob?

“Agreed!” the SUNSTROKE throbbed in his ears.

Bernard contemplates uncircumcised anal intrusion

“And this stone no larger than my hand,” said Jacob, raising his arms aloft, “which I have set for a pillar, shall be God’s house: and of all that thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth unto thee.”

In other words: Jacob’s client, God, would fill up the coffers, and when all was said and done, He would be lucky to recover ten percent of His investment.

Jacob was clearly a born banker! I believe Bernard Madoff claims to be some of his dusty seed.

Jacob finally made it to his uncle’s place. The only things Bernard will make are number plates. Shortly after arriving, Jacob met his cousin, was instantly head-over-heels, gave her a kiss and began to weep aloud. Shortly after Bernard arrived in the clink he met a large Negro called Cuz, was instantly head-over-butt being forced to eat dick, and he too did weep aloud.

Back to Jacob though! Anal virginity intact! Lazy to a T! But his uncle was a subtle man, and after watching Jacob do nothing helpful amongst the flocks, or even amongst the tents, except carve something grotesque and amateurish into a piece of wood for Rachel, and mumble to himself about profit and loss, said to the young shit, Because thou art my brother, shouldest thou therefore serve me for nought? Tell me, what shall thy wages be?”

Possibly they looked less Aryan

And dropping his crippled carving he answered Laban in an outpouring of love, which is nought else than an emotional perversion of lust, despite what pop songs and Hollywood have led you to believe, “I will serve thee seven years for Rachel thy younger daughter.”

And thus seven long years did Jacob work for Laban and masturbate for himself. But karma is universal and Laban was, after all, his uncle. Is it any wonder then that for once Jacob got fucked?

It is no wonder, but thou shall wonder about the lack of wonderment until the next wonderful Jesus Fucking Christ revelation! Verily, you will o loyal mob of engrossed and awed savages, but not seven years! I can’t give all their secrets away in one session! As I said years ago; but that on the good ground are they that, in an honest and good heart, having heard the Word, keep it and bring forth fruit with some fucking patience and some awkwardly written sentences.

Who do you hate more?

In conclusioni: my ego requires more Twitter followers! At least I got more followers than James Caviezel, the knob end who played me in Passion of The Christ. And don’t you dare start following him just to prove me wrong! I am still not sure what is more painful; crucifixion or being forced to watch either Passion of The Christ or the Twilight movies. Maybe the Twilight movies.

I am spent turning words into art! Go ye forth and be thou not too naughty, unless she/he/it is just too cute and you simply can’t stop yourself. Remember: in mid-sexual-naughtiness I am watching thee with my camcorder!

Chapter 5 – The Birth of Israel Tuesday, Mar 9 2010 

They all look the same to me!

The Jews and the Muslims are not happy. Then again, when have they ever been happy, except, of course, when they’re buying property or turning things into rubble? The Abrahamic religions are particularly pissed to discover that Abraham, the original schizoid pimp merchant, is not the patriarch of their chosen delusions. Indeed, you rambunctious pipsqueaks, their true patriarch was an unknown, uncircumcised, Mesopotamian myrrh merchant who could have doubled as the perfect Aryan specimen. Ironic really. If you are confused, o lost sheep in the valley of darkness, it is because you have not read my previous fucking chapters! Top left-hand corner o pitiable douche bags!

Synopsis? Synopsis! Synopsis: Abe’s meager flock of sperm good for one kid only…Kid and rape victim slave mum tossed into desert where they die a horrible death by baking and drying out…Abe’s meager flock of sperm incapable of being shepherded to Sarah’s soaked ovaries…Abe conned by three merchants that they are angels of Little Basil who then proceed to take turns filling Sarah with the holy spirit…Isaac born nine months later as a perfect Georg Sluyterman study…Endo!

Try our Hitler youth Acne cream!

Isaac, the Aryan gentleman’s bastard son, survived Abe’s attempted vivisection and waxed strong and pimply. So strong and pimply that Abraham, who was by then old and almost perfectly cured for the maggots, would never get another chance to do away with ‘that parasitic bastard’, as he would so fondly refer to Isaac. Instead, he convinced himself through the babblings of Little Basil, a product of his warped super-ego, that Isaac was, verily, his son.

Close to decomposition, Abraham thought it wise to get his ‘son’ a wife. But from where? The local Canaanite community, where genetic diversity was assured? Are you kidding? Be gone to Hades with the idea of integrating harmoniously with the natives whom your seed will attempt to wipe out later! What an outrageous concept for a future religious tree whose primary industry would be the suffocation of the aboriginal shrubbery! If the tenants of racism, genocide and plunder were to flourish, incest, or semi-incest at worst, would be the only viable plook. Thus, they married him off to his first cousins once removed, Rebekah Goldberg (her maiden name).

They couldn’t have picked a better matriarchal protégé. Rebekah was the original Jewish princess prototype; she was intelligent, articulate, overbearing and deceitful; her weapons were food, hygiene, and guilt; her canvass was Isaac and her twin sons, but her masterpiece was Jacob!

Only difference is Jacob had no specs or Asian girls to molest

Isaac was the perfect husband for her; at his mother’s mammalian flaps until thirty five and a virgin until forty. Jacob was her perfect little boy! He was not so much a chip off the old block, like his violent, manly hunter of a brother, Esau, but more a thread off the maternal hem. While Esau was out risking his neck hunting for the family, Jacob was a plain man, dwelling in tents. A more fitting description, though, would be that Jacob was a neurotic, over-achieving, dependent though viciously ungrateful, sexually repressed yet rapacious, impossible-to-satisfy mommy’s boy, both sneaky and indolent.

But don’t take my word for it. Read the fucking Old Testament where it says; And Jacob sod pottage (stayed at home and cooked like a wee girly): and Esau came from the field, and he was faint (from hunting so that he could feed his family, and Jacob could pretend to be industrious): And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me, I pray thee, with that same red pottage; for I am faint: therefore was his name called Edom. And Jacob said, Sell me this day thy birthright. And Esau said, Behold, I am at the point to die: and what profit shall this birthright do to me? And Jacob said, Swear to me this day; and he sware unto him: and he sold his birthright unto Jacob.

Jealousy of a large, testosterone pumping brother turns nasty

I think the point is well taken. Apologetic self-serving delusion aside! While Esau was out busting his balls and taking his life into his hands to feed his family, Jacob was sleeping late, repeatedly washing his hands and occasionally helping his mom in the kitchen. Esau came in from God knows how many days a huntin’, practically famished, and what did Jacob do? Did he welcome the family provider home with generosity and appreciation? No fucking way! Rebekah’s schooling of Israel (Jacob will change his name later) bubbles forth in rascally ungratefulness, leaving a grimy residue on pots and pans that his alleged offspring have no intention of removing: he bites the hand that feeds him and then tricks his twin brother out of his birthright. In inauspicious start, o circumcised minority.

An inauspicious start which got dirtier in no time at all! Not satisfied with biting the hand and stealing its birthright, Rebekah hatched some villainous trickery to once and for all dismember that hand.

Isaac was lyin’ a dyin’ in bed. As a last will and testament he called Esau to him to go hunting for some wild game. It was an act of pride! His butch son would go out on one last macho pursuit for the old man, after which Esau would receive his blessing, or inheritance, as Isaac’s only son with solid, dauntless nuts. Rebekah, our well fed aging stereotype, didn’t so much overhear this conversation as eavesdrop.

Is it any wonder that Woody Allen is brilliant but totally fucked up?

Suppressing her lifelong companion, guilt, Rebekah forced her omnipresent persona on Jacob and said, “Behold, I heard thy father speak unto Esau thy brother, saying, Bring me venison, and make me savoury meat, that I may eat, and bless thee before the LORD before my death. Go now to the flock, and fetch me from thence two good kids of the goats; and I will take my poor worn out body to the kitchen and make savoury meat for thy father, such as he loveth, coz you can’t cook for shit and don’t care a fig about your poor mother: And thou shalt bring it to thy father, that he may eat, and that he may bless thee before his death.”

“Gee, mom. Should we really do that? I feel kinda bad about this idea. I already screwed Esau once and I am racked with nightmares as it is. Also, have you seen the size of Esau lately? He could crush me with one of his manly, ear-splitting farts.”

“Jacob! Look at me! Look at me!” Rebekah half pleaded, half commanded in her whiny tone. “My poor heart! Where is the nice little Jacob who would make his mama so happy? Don’t you think I know what’s best for you? Has your mama ever let you down?”

“But mama, I feel really bad about this. I can’t do it!”

“You want maybe to put a knife through your mother’s heart? Oy vey! Why is my life so hard? Jacob, he used to be such a nice boy, and now he can’t even do one simple little thing for his old, broken momma.”

“Okay, momma, I’ll do it! Happy?” Jacob said in exasperated defeat.

“O Jacob! You’ve made your mama so proud! Don’t look so down!” Rebekah said, pulling his chin. “Come on, smile. That you call a smile? Ah! There’s my boy…”

…And thus Esau was fucked again.

I just called to say I'm sorry...

But when your character has been that way inclined by an overbearing mother who could successfully bring sex and death to her routine of guilt and food, and you have tasted the fruits of ill gotten gains, there is no turning back. Jacob had only just begun his career as a self-serving, crooked, son-of-a-bitch. He had also learned something about fear and guilt: We only feel fear of getting caught and once caught we fool ourselves into believing that fear is remorse . Clearly it was only a question of time before he and his descendants would claim communion with God and suchlike. By now you must be thinking; when will God take an active roll with a chosen nation blood thirsty enough to be his special flock? Soon, my little sheep, soon! Just as soon as Moses kills the floor manager!

Until then you’ll have to do with purely human immorality served on a plate of faux Godliness; not unlike all major religion today.

But, what is more, you will have to wait until my next blogoment  to find out: just how great incestuous polygamy is, just how wrong coitus interruptus is, and what it’s like to have Egyptian chicks come onto you.

Those who do not follow me on Twitter shall be cast into the pit of fire and brimstone and the merciless tickling of sensitive parts!

Chapter 4 Abraham (part 5) Wednesday, Mar 3 2010 

Would you prefer that with salad or french fries?

Abraham’s nephew, Lot, was triple thrillofied with his blessed escape from Sodom and Gomorrah. One might even be tempted to say that he felt as though The LORD had killed three birds with one firestone, but the truth would be much closer to approximately half a million people, and who knows how many pets and livestock. Some homos died too but that’s beside the point. When Dad gets down to killing He doesn’t fuck around – and He aint fussy neither!

Back to those three Kentucky fried birdies, and why Lot was so delighted by their smoldering corpses. Firstly, Lot was ever so gay to know that all the gays had had their buttholes turned into some kind of an anal oven. Were they baking sausage rolls? Secondly, he was free of his wife whose front loading oven could no longer grease up sufficiently. Thirdly, he had scored about sixty pounds of free salt after that mercenary bitch’s salination; the other sixty pounds, or so, going to Abraham.

And in true biblical fashion, what did Lot do immediately after he had reached safety? He got totally fuck drunk! But not to be outdone by his predecessor, Noah, he didn’t just lie there in a consecrated paste of vomit, urine and faeces. No, ye disgusting sinners, he went sexi-max on the pussies of his daughters. That’s right! While the real sinners – many of which were monogamous and more than a few who were just plain, nice people – were being brazed and turned in the valley below, Lot was filling his daughters’ ovens with his own, highly personalized gum of manpaste.

The Siamese twins were totally trashed!

According to the bible, which we have already established is full of savagery (but mainly lies), Lot’s daughters got him completely spongy and then proceeded to sit upon his altar spongy. He was, allegedly, so drunk that first the one, then the other, bucked their papa bull two nights in a row without the stud ever realizing it. Do you know how drunk that is? Have you ever been that drunk? Well I have! After all, I can turn water into wine, and when I discovered that, as an adolescent super celestial being, I go totally trashed every Sabbath until the thrill wore off. The point is this, as any man will confirm: there is no way you can crucify any chick when you’re paralytic drunk. Forget it! I have tried. Repeatedly!

The truth, I am afraid to inform those holy, religious types who would like terrible things to happen to me is this: Lot was an incestuous child molester. He had started feelin’ up his daughters some years prior but it was finally the death of his wife that gave him the courage to ravage their fourteen and 16 year old vaginae.

"Are you enslaved here often?"

The moral of this biblical tale is clear: First, gang rape and filiaphilia (the boning of one’s daughter and the delight therein) are seen as good in The LORD’s eyes. Second, having gay DNA is evil, wicked, wrong, disgusting, despicable, hideous, beastly, loathsome, obscene, repugnant, depraved, perverse, and a naughtiness worth an excruciating death by fire. Thanks to the pope, however, there is a path which can be trod by you sickening homos; a life see-sawing between self-mortification and child abuse as catholic priests.

Enough about righteous Lot. Back to psychotic Abraham! Although I, King of kings, had stopped servicing Sarah, puny human king were still up for some overpriced pussy. Realizing there was no future in Sodom, Abraham took his ho, a bunch of slaves and sojourned in Gerar.

There he did pimp his bitch to a king called Abimelech. Biblical booblical (Genesis twenty) tries its usual spin dummy suchlike: Abraham tells Sarah to lie…Sarah lies everywhere…God visits Abimelech in a dream and says you’re a dead man for wanting to bang another dude’s missus…Abimelech explains he was duped…God, who apparently is all knowing, backtracks on a pretty heavy judgment and shows himself to be an ignorant, wishy-washy douche bag, yet, closes up every womb in the district nonetheless…Abraham proves his awesome cowardice and reveals that Sarah is, indeed, his half-sister…Abimelech gives Abe sheep, and oxen, and menservants, and womenservants, and a thousand pieces of silver for no apparent reason…Abe has to pray to God to unclose the wombs which He had unfairly closed up in the first place.

Shortly thereafter Charlton Heston divorced his Caucasian wife

The truth is better: Abe pimped his bitch ho for oodles of cash and stuff, and everybody in the royal household got a serious case of the syph. The End.

Not quite. There is still the birth of Isaac, the booting of Ishmael and Abe’s attempted murder. Another sordid tangle of Mesopotamian tit, assorted thighs, and rigid members.

Let us begin our foray with Isaac’s birth. Word tends to get around when you speak to yourself and masturbate before altars while calling out the name of Basil. Three traveling merchants, who’d heard the rumors of Abe’s psychosis, as well as having heard what a hottie Sarah was, had a plan. They came to Abe’s tent door and said, “Abraham! We are three angels sent by most glorious Basil!”

“Praised be Basil!”

Praised, indeed!” They continued. “Listen Abe, Where is Sarah thy wife?”

“Behold, in the tent.” Abraham said.

“How can we behold what we cannot see? Whatever. Sarah thy wife shall have a son. Go ye forth and build another altar for Bas while we will enter into Sarah…ahem!…enter into Sarah’s tent and lay hands upon her so that she may conceive.”

Whereupon they did take turnsupon Sarah…who conceived!

A truly puny version of myself

And nine months later Isaac was born; an uncoordinated bundle of bastard limbs covered with the gooey patina of bastard afterbirth that did place his bastard lips upon Sarah’s buttons to drink her moo juice.

Isaac, as you may have guessed, was a bastard! Any one of those three tricksters could have been his dad, but it was probably the one with the Hydrangea-blue, forget-me-not eyes and golden hyacinth locks.

It was only thirteen years later, though, that Abraham finally realized it was a little odd to have a blonde and blue eyed boy for a son when both he and Sarah were muddy of limb and pitch of curl.

Realization was, um, palpable! Abraham dragged Isaac to the nearest crag and attempted to gouge huge chunks of flesh and jugular from semi-pubescent Isaac’s upper thorax region, while Little Basil provided the throbbing kill! kill! kill! soundtrack. This was no loyalty test from a pint sized, jealous God, although something of this nature would not really have been out of character for Dad. The fact is this: Abe was motivated by pure alpha male psychosis! Accompanied by the Basil orchestra! Scripted by Moses!

Honestly, though, I am totally sick of Abraham. Five parts devoted to desert sleaze, and I am not done yet! What about Abraham’s other son, Ishmael (obtained by raping a slave)?

Charlton's wife's kid three months later. PS - you are all indirectly responsible for this kind of shit

In brief: Isaac was born and Abraham evicted Ishmael and his mom, Hagar, on the spot in true Jewish landlord fashion! But Abraham was a kindly patriarch, people! He did not simply chuck them out into a hostile desert with no provisions. O no! He gave them a loaf of bread and a jug of water. And, contrary to bible bamboozlement, Ishmael did not become a mighty nation. He and his mum died of thirst three and half days later. Holy crap! I just pulverized the lineage of two major and equally bloodthirsty religions. Crucifiction might come early this time around. Tough shit! Jesus can say what the fuck he wants! Especially when he’s telling the truth!

In conclusion: Abraham and Sarah finally died, as you will too, unless you send me your bank account details and buy a bunch of cheesy Jesus paraphernalia.

Done! Spent! Let there be wine (Perrier works best)! Next! Next? What comes next? What stomach churning behavior will the next righteous examples perform? Who will Joseph fuck? Who will Moses kill and con? Where is the paraphernalia you’re supposed to buy?

The light keeps growing ever lighter, woolly flocky, and soon you shall receive tweetmitification of the next biblical adventures! Shalom!

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