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The Bible According to Monkey Joe

The Bible According to Monkey Joe

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The Bible According to Monkey Joe

Lunghezza:
126 pagine
1 ora
Pubblicato:
Aug 17, 2014
ISBN:
9781910103609
Formato:
Libro

Descrizione

Hi

As Editor of Sinner’s Monthly Magazine, I can say that this is a decent sin, a fine demonstration of the noble art of bLAUGHSphemy. The idea of making fun of the Bible to upset the Devil is a good idea and I think this is definitely in the bull’s eye. This may rouse the beast from Revelations, the one with the 666 on it’s head, which in turn may turn into something that will beat Godzilla in the box office. I’m no book critic, but this one is brilliant, so get it read. Especially juicy for religious people, who won’t be able to sleep for a long time after savouring the beauty of the content.
Judd S Carrycotte
Sinner’s Monthly Magazine.

Pubblicato:
Aug 17, 2014
ISBN:
9781910103609
Formato:
Libro

Informazioni sull'autore

I am the one being shaved; the other one Nim, is is a looney bin now!I went to see a psychic years ago who ended up as my girlfriend; she didn’t see that one coming! But she was extremely honoured. However it ended badly i.e. it rained heavily as I buried her body and I got soaked. No! You don’t really want to hear about it, it’s depressing; I was joking about the burial. She told me that I was to uncover a talent I had ... Well, another psychic told me that as the first one was dead; I was lying when I said I was lying. Nothing happened for quite a while. Suddenly I realised I needed a ‘job’ quite badly as I was beginning to drink halves. No, not a boob ‘job’! I went for the cheap option i.e. the surgeon gave some socks to shove up my jumper when I go out. I got a ‘job’ (have you got boobs on your mind?) because someone told me that bus-driving was easy because you just sit on your butt and turn the wheel. She was about six, a wise woman ... that’s called an oxymoron. Fantastic! I thought get the job and in a couple of days I’d be driving all the nice passengers around and about seeing all the sights for a fraction of the cost of a tour bus; and we’d have a roof in case it rained. Easy! First of all though there was the training; and I entered hell.I was born in Cumbria in a little ex-iron ore mining town called Millom. It was only small, a one- horse town; the horse was called Peg. It had a pedigree name too, but I can’t remember it at the moment: Peggy Suss? However, I got fed up and left as I was the only man in a town full of women and they were all lesbys; I’ve always been lucky. I went to Blackpool and attended the photographic college. I then moved to Coventry and met the psychic who would tell me what was going to happen. I could say now that the rest is history. Well it is, but obviously not history as that’s all made up anyway. Then I got the job bus-driving, which as I said is easy ‘you just sit on your butt and turn the wheel’. The bus station management weren’t pleased that she had said that though, so she was tried and sent to Guantanamo Bay; they have a section for young kids who are bad to the bone.The job was so mad that I thought it would be a good idea to write out some posters and stick them all on the wall of the bus station. The other drivers enjoyed them, but the management tore them down, the badstars (that’s an anagram of astards +B). I carried on and ended up with a manuscript for a book, which, by the way is ‘brilliant’. The management didn’t like it, but bollocks to them.I couldn’t stop writing after that episode and I’ve been writing ever since, mostly cheques to people, such as the mortgage people and the gas board etc. I am so brilliant that I’ve lost all my friends because I wrote about them in my style which I believe is called Bizzaro. My inner being is a bit of a crazy horse, because whatever I write it has to be in that style, even the horror. It just goes that way. ‘Ordinary’ writing to me is like lemonade minus the bubbles ... I can’t bring myself to do it; but thank God I can still bring myself off. I need a selfie stick as I do that because the close focus on the phone won’t do it; how else am I going to post them on the Dark Web?Writing is like a drug. When I was writing my Millom book, the pictures that flashed into my head were so funny to me that I laughed myself into hernia-ville; my stomach tore. I got injured writing.You see, hernia-ville, a retirement home for people with stomach hernias; no comedians are booked to appear at that place.So, my writing is brilliant, so read the bloody stuff!I have actually suffered for my art. I won’t go to hospital to get it fixed because, well, I’ve written about that friggin place too.All that and now I’m an international bestselling author. I’m the only author in this world who has sold books on Mars (eat your heart out Tony Robbins), so I can say with certainty that Martians have fabulous senses of humour.What a profile!

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The Bible According to Monkey Joe - Frankie Lassut

The Bible According to Monkey Joe

Copyright by Dave (Frankie) Lassut 2014

Published by Wonky Books at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

EPUB ISBN: 978-1-910103-60-9

EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-910103-61-6

Foreword

I was accosted by a group of Mormons, it was fun (it’s happened more than once, to my utter delight). I would say ‘lovely people’ but people on recruitment drives are seldom free and easy, they want your mind, not your soul, but they couldn’t have that anyway.

‘He wouldn’t let them take away my soul

And knowing that, I knew that I was whole’

Helen Keller

They weren’t aware that I knew parts of the Bible that would aid me in this mini Armageddon, but any thoughts of ‘Armageddon out of here’ were quashed as they surrounded me on their mountain bikes. I could have jumped over their heads like Bruce Lee did at the beginning of Enter the Dragon, but didn’t want to scare them. So, the normal jive began ...

Do you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ? ...

I replied, Erm, yes ... he was one ‘Hell’ of a guy apparently (they missed that one). And I like miracles, they are natural occurrences when you are at one with your source (God) as Jesus was, which is why he said...  ‘I and the father are one’ ... and in the Bible he says we are all the same, all equal. I’m not sure they liked that. I then thought I may as well inform them as to ...

I erm, I can do them, miracles that is ... now there I could have said ‘isn’t the human body a miracle? Or a baby? Humans do babies all the time."

You do miracles?! asked the leader.

I could smell their fear; funny, it smells very much like fresh fart. There was no sound though, they must do sphincter control classes in case they meet ‘me’; such sphincter control is a modern day miracle. The question is, did Jesus fart for effect?

God: Of course he did.

Well, there we go!

‘Of course I do! Don’t you?

They didn’t, of course they didn’t in their world, they couldn’t and they wouldn’t, their jobs depended on it. Their handy lucrative miracle worker was killed a while back by the church authorities, so until ‘she’ returned, there couldn’t be another, which is good news for folk like me, as I like being entertained, or entertaining myself. But they breathed (a miracle), their body ran with the ease of effort between the sub-conscious and the inner being, their bodies healed themselves (much to the dismay of the NHS who try and convince us they don’t, we need chemicals to enhance their wig franchise) ... but, these petty Messiahs like the circus aspect. ‘Which one would you like me to do?’

I looked at all six bonnie sculpted faces (faces ancient Greek men, or present day Politicians would have loved to ‘love’ as gratification and perverted power ... love being the wrong word), and they looked at each other ...

‘I know! Water into wine?’ That’s pretty famous; Jesus made a lot of friends that day.

Now, if you know wellbeing and the space time continuum and that everything happens vibrationally before it manifests, well, I’d already done this. It must have been fun, because my inner being was getting excited.

At some point, the six foot six Aryan leader had been to a shop and bought a bottle of water (clearly another miracle), for which he reached into his inside pocket and handed it to me.

There again, it could have been from a direct descentant of John the Baptist, who is a first cousin of one of thier elite? They could have made me ‘born again’ on the spot. Imagine if Jesus had turned water into wine, for health reasons, Come on guys; work tomorrow.

So, I held this bottle of water. He and the rest of them hadn’t realised it, but, unless one or more was already called the obvious, their first names had changed. So, I held it and looked at the miracle it already was, as did they, but they looked at water that meant nothing miraculous to them ... had they discovered a miracle man to be somehow eliminated? I shook my head in sadness ... ‘for them’ and handed him his bottle back, they all smiled, I had failed to their great satisfaction. I looked at them all with a sweep of my head "It says somewhere in your Bible, Gospels I think, of which I am sure you are all familiar, where Jesus says something similar to ‘Before you can see it, you have to believe it. If you believe you can with a sprinkle of faith, you can move that mountain over there (huge eyesore Ikea building) into the water ... so enjoy your water ‘Thomas’.

They then invited me to their church one evening. You want me to do a talk for y’all?

No, we have some good teachers there who can teach you about the Bible and Jesus Christ.

You see? I love religion and its minions because I’m above it, and into wellbeing with all of its woo woo and mumbo jumbo and so can enjoy it, crosses and all, but I haven’t a clue what the lower rankers like these lads actually want from it? Well, yes I do actually. It’s something they can never have i.e. power over millions of people which would make them feel important, because actually, they are so, so insecure. Having people do your will when you are so insecure is a potent drug. Then there’s the ‘tithing’ for their church riches (nothing wrong with having lots of money). I think it’s 10% of earnings they require from disciples? It’s all good fun.

Miracles though? Here’s a little gallery of miracles:

SYCAMOUR

Our friends the Mormons were looking for a circus/Marvo style miracle, but, if they had of opened their eyes, they would see they are surrounded by them. For example: ‘seeds’, wonderful things, the little (and big) eggs of trees and plants; living things that can survive sometimes thousands of years waiting for the rain. What did the great man say ‘If you only had the faith of a mustard seed you could do so and so’. The sycamore seed is quite fun to photograph, here’s a mini gallery. They are beautiful little miracles, aren’t they? One bladed seed helicopters when they fall individually.

I bet our Mormies (cuter name) would walk past these on the floor and not notice the magic at their feet, yet they want to notice that maybe ‘you’ may wish to give your mind to them so they can firmly instil their beliefs into it. Don’t be mad though, at least they know what they want and they do it with passion. Yet, is that passion rooted in fear of the management if they don’t perform? God luvvem.

But, for them (and you of course), here’s a little gallery of miracles.

How cool a miracle is that?!

This next wee miracle I picked from the gutter and held it in the blazing sun. My

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