So Sayeth The Peabs


Thursday, August 05, 2004

Crystal Meth & Christianity: A Match Made In Heaven. Or A Lab. Obvs.


Peabs isn't a terribly religious man. This may or may not be a factor in the upcoming election, but it doesn't change the fact the I love to have sex with nuns. They're just so damn sexually repressed, they get a little wild in the sack, if you know what Peabs means; and what I mean is, they love it in the ass. Hard. Bovs.

Anyway, before Peabs pisses off every religious activist in the country, let me at least come clean and say that I did some realization last evening, with the help of a coked-out Dr. Bill Cosby. If I want to be President this or any year, I am going to need to broaden my religious horizons to something more than just nun-fucking. As arrogant and wonderful and popular and pretty and, as the French say cru, animalistic, avec un grand âne as Peabs is, I am not bigger than Jesus. Close. Certainly there have been times when on 'shrooms in which Peabs thought I was the son of God, but who hasn't? Shmears. I also think I'm a fucking turkey, so suck it. Gobble, gobble!

Okay, I am clearly babbling this morning, so I will atttempt to get to the point. Upon arriving in the States last evening, Coz and yours effing truly decided to have an Obvs in '04 Campaign fundraiser, and invite the most powerful religious figures in the United States. Kerry and Bush can battle for votes in Iowa all they effing want; no way in fucking hell could they match the debaucherous display Peabs and Dr. Bill Cosby put on last night. Duhvs.

The night, admittedly, began a little awkward. One of the first guests to arrive was Sister Betty Obal, of the Sisters of Loretto. I knew Betty from back in my swinging days at Hopkins med, and she actually claims that Peabs was the reason she joined the clergy. Hey, I didn't force my D™ in your mouth, or that special K up your nose, Sister, so don't blame Peabs if you used to be a kinky mama! Needless to say, I was a bit nervous when I saw her walk through the door; but this changed when our eyes met. It was like we were in a Baltimore bathhouse again. Schmobvs.

Would you prefer ranch or jazz with your tossed salad, you fucking handjob!?
Coz also had himself quite a night. I know what you're thinking; obvs Coz did. And while every night is party night for Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable, he never seizes to amaze Peabs. Last night was no exception. In all honesty, most religious figures are not very pretty- none nearly as pretty as Peabs, but you could make a milkshake out of Jude Law and Brad Pitt's jazz, insert it into Gisele's vaggie vag, and the result would still be maybe a quarter as pretty as my right cheekbone. Shmears. Anywizz, Coz made sure that we'd have some call girls and crank at the fundraiser in order to liven up the party. Let's just say, the last I saw of Coz was when he grabbed former president of Union Theological Seminary, Rev. Donald W. Shriver Jr., and led him into a room full of methed-out prostitutes, each named after the respective seven natural wonders of the world. I've heard that the Lighthouse of Alexandria tosses a mean fucking salad. Is that true, Dr. Bill Cosby?

You bet your bazzle bozzum flozzle! Flazzum!

Even if you hate me, you can't stop reading Peabs. Face it, I'm the most fascinating person in the fucking universe. Duh.

my girl's tall with hard long eyes
as she stands, with her long hard hands keeping
silence on her dress, good for
obvs in


At 12:49 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, Peabs, i fear the day when your mirror on the wall tells you where i live,
although, since i am impervious to poisons of all nature, i doubt your apple will even get me high

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At 6:43 AM, Anonymous Baldric said...

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