Thanks to Jon for finding this over at Saint Obama vs the Muslim Dragon. Most of it’s predictably mental and can be broadly divided into two camps:
- People shitting themselves with excitement because Obama talks about peace while he kills Muslims.
- People shitting themselves with fear because Obama talks about peace while he kills Muslims.
Encouragingly, there’s also a solid core of people who are waiting to see what he actually does. Call me some kind of cynical cunt but I think they might be waiting for a long time.
But we’re not interested in those patient, reasonable people. Check out this twat.
The question that is not being asked is “what does God want?” Sure, He wants us to live in peace, but not at the expense of Truth. Does He want us to live as Muslims, Christians or Buddhists? They cannot coexist, because they each believe different things. Saying that we can all live together and believe what we want will not work–it will only lead to anarchy. So, what does God want?
mr. mac, Iowa City
A packet of fig rolls and a two-litre bottle of White Lightning.
78 Responses to “Quite Frightening”
You’re a cynical cunt.
Two scotch eggs and a jar of marmite.
God wants Mr. Mac of Iowa City to shut the hell up.
I reckon God wants everyone to be buddhists and leave him the fuck out of it.
All He really, really wants is a zig-a-zig-ah.
He wants you to all shut the fuck up because he’s got a hangover. Bastards are worse than church-bells.
He wants me for a sunbeam.
@ necroflange
Don’t you mean ‘athists’?
@ Chris
What kind of sandwiches have you got?
Weird. That’s exactly what Joy Pattinson charges for a not terribly well-executed blowjob in the lavatory just outside Zürich Hauptbahnhof.
For normal people, their favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla, but there are some degenerates out there who like strawberry ice cream more. These two groups cannot coexist, because they each believe different things. What does Mr Whippy want? Probably some sort of war, if you ask me.
“Two scotch eggs and a jar of marmite.” – Come on this is God we’re talking about, he’d want at least three scotch eggs.
This is a highly disingenuous question. It’s quite clear that Mr Prat of Iowa City already KNOWS what Gard wants, which is massive religious wars eventually won by decent white folk at the cost of a few million or billion raghead and assorted darkie lives. So why is Mr Prat teasing us with his cleverness? When he already knows the answer? Why? Why, why, why, Mr Prat, why?? Oh please stop it, the cleverness, the terrible terrible cleverness …
The question that is not being asked is “what does the 999-operator want?” Sure, He wants us to live in peace, but not at the expense of Truth. Does He want us to live as Policemen, Paramedics or Firemen? They cannot coexist, because they each do different things. Saying that we can all live together and do what we want will not work–it will only lead to anarchy. So, what does the 999-Operator want?
But surely he (or she or they) could just make more of them, using some kind of Miraculous Heavenly Replicator Technology(tm)? I mean where is the fun in being God if you have to specify numbers of scotch eggs before you even know just how hungry you, or perhaps the universe, are? IF I’m right, and please note the capitalization.
I think God would rather we didn’t eat eggs if we are allergic.
God wants the good citizens of Iowa City (rhymes with) to go out and lynch all the coloured folk and arm themselves in readiness for the muslim invasion. Then it will be Rapture Time when God, in the guise of MC Hammer, leads all Believers in a giant shag-a-thon (that’s DANCING to you Limeys), before their ascent to Heaven (not the Nightclub as that’s Bufty territory).
Any lefties, gays, people with white roofs and Trombonists will be left to fight the War Of The Final Days. Or have a fucking great big party if they feel like it.
God wants sodomy. Let’s sodomise the sodomites.
God does not want fig rolls, he wants jammy dodgers, you heathen scum.
You will face the wrath of my tireless, crusading armies, if you don’t agree.
Ah, White Lightning; for when Diamond White is just too posh.
Besides, everyone knows God is strictly a Mad Dog 20/20 guy.
I fancy a scotch egg now. Prove your existence, Lord, and bestow upon me thine tastiest picnic snack!
I once asked God for a scotch egg. Thinking my prayers unanswered, I went to Morrison’s and there they were in the cooked meats aisle! Fucking God, eh? Truly, he doth move in mysterious ways.
I honestly wouldn’t risk inviting the Trombonists. Chances are your carpet will get all dirtied up, one way or another, if you get my drift? If I were you I think I’d have a party with just the lefties, gays and people with white roofs, and leave the Trombonists outside in the front garden bleating on about the solo in Mahler 3 and wondering why no-one has invited them in and given them a pie, a scotch egg, or even a (crash of thunder) jammy dodger. And you see the rest of us could have Thomas the Tank Engine party serviettes and tablecloths and everything. It would be cool. And the Iowa City twat would have already been, er, ruptured, or whatever you call it, so you wouldn’t get him hanging around and siding with the trombonists and trying to get all the jumbo peanuts and annoying the dog.
It sounds like quite a nice party now.
I’m so sorry, on reflection I realise that that should of course have read:
Ahhahahahahahahahaha. (Drops dead laughing.)
What sandwiches have you got?
HMHB lyrics being quoted is a sign of civilisation. Gawd bless SYB.
John Adair is on good form on HYS today, Giving us his deathless prose on the cabinet reshuffle.
Always interesting how depressingly easy it is to categorise people’s political views, by what angle they attack ‘Gordon Clown’ from. for example, if they mention ‘selling off our gold cheaply’ as being up there with the worst things he’s done, it’s very likely that they’re a horrible neo-fascist twunt.
The most depressing bit is that they have a foaming, 10 megaton-level hate towards the totten bastard for being some sort of unreconstructed marxist, without even having the faintest ideas of the really godawful, right-wing economic policies and gross corporate bumlicking he actioned as chancellor and then PM.
Or rotten bastard, I should say. He’s not so bad to be called totten.
And a blues CD on the Hallmark label,
That’s sure to be good….
He wants to go to Billing Aquadrome.
He’s never been to Billing Aquadrome.
Let him go with you to Billing Aquadrome.
Please let him go to Billing Aquadrome.
Pie sandwiches.
Scotch egg sandwiches.
Jammy dodger sandwiches.
Sound good?
No.
I’ll have ten kit-kats and a motoring atlas.
God wants people in Iowa to be able to construct a paragraph of coherent argument. He’ll have a fucking long wait then.
Well, duh. Obviously.
Read that last line again. 398. You haven’t missed a decimal point.
So what about this rapture thing, then?
God’s plan is all too obvious:
1) The Jews and Muslims wipe each other out.
2) Christians that picked the wrong denomination die of swine flu.
3) Chuck Norris elected unopposed as world president.
The Voice Of God.
Actually, I’d prefer Jaffa Cakes.
Oh dear, God, but we were going to make sandwiches. Tell you what, you can have Jaffa Cakes but only if you bring them – preferably in infinite quantity – you can do that, right? And some Twiglets perhaps? Thanks. But come round to the back door otherwise you’ll have to talk to the trombonists who will still be in the front garden. OK?
I think you’ll find the word is ‘napkins’.
God wants peace
God wants war
God wants famine
God wants chain stories
God wants goodness
God wants light
God wants mayhem
God wants a clean fight
God wants sedition
God wants sex
God wants freedom
God wants semtex
What God wants God gets
God wants borders
God wants crack
God wants voodoo
God wants shrines
God wants law
God wants organised crime
God wants crusade
God wants jihad
God wants good
God wants bad
What God wants God gets
God wants dollars
God wants cents
God wants pounds, shillings, and pence
God wants guilders
God wants Kroner
God wants Swiss francs
God wants French francs
God wants escudos
God wants pesetas
Don’t send lira
God don’t want small potatoes
God wants small towns
God wants pain
God wants clean up rock campaigns
What God wants God gets God help us all
God wants silver
God wants gold
God wants his secret
Never to be told
God wants gigolos
God wants giraffes
God wants politics
God wants a good laugh
What God wants God gets God help us all
God wants friendship
God wants fame
God wants credit
God wants blame
God wants poverty
God wants wealth
God wants insurance
God wants to cover himself
What God wants God gets God help us all
Fuck off cliche
Nancy, if the trombonists get anywhere near them I think you’ll find the word is “Andrex”.
You couldn’t make it up. Fact.
cliche,
Extra marks for quoting Roger Waters. I was always more of a Radio KAOS fan myself.
Ma … aa … aa … aag … PIE!
(thus linking neatly into the picnic concept.)
(oh never mind. bloody trombonists)
The suggestion that god might be the sort of chap to prefer a fig roll to a jammy dodger has been addressed in the earler “Gay Scottish Vicar” thread.
God wants Susan Boyle to sing at this picnic, and for someone to teach us all blockquotes. Oh, God just said, he wants to burn evangelical religious nutters and trombonists! Oh and a nice bottle of red for this picnic. Oh and he asks if anyone wants to pop to Morrisons to get another pack of scotch eggs if its not already shut, God has had enough of using his divine powers to sort out your organisational messes!
I know this is off-topic, but I just wanted to share this gem with y’all.
From the ‘Did the right woman win?’ (The Apprentice) thread:
£100 a year, Su? I know you’re too poor to afford an ‘e’ on the end of your name, but c’mon, have some self-respect, even in this dire economic climate! There’s child wage slaves in Asia knocking out Primark tat who are getting more than that a year (hopefully).
I shouldn’t mock. The poor love is so confused, she thinks ‘Srallun’ is going to become PM via a gruff, pointy-fingered coup d’etat. She also probably thinks that Joanie really does love Chachi.
There have been far too many uncapitalised third person singular personal pronouns in this discussion and its pissing Me off.
I shall be smiting in a few moments.
Just after I’ve finished these scotch eggs.
Anybody got any jaffa cakes?
Hang on I can do some of that spontaneous creation malarky. Forget that last question.
I saaiid fooorgeet it! (Shakes fist)
Please just ignore my dad. He’s drunk again. Sometimes I wish he’d never invented wine. Or beer. Or taught the monks how to distill. Or armed the Americans.
I’ll just leave that for you to marvel at…from the “Is Britain entering a new political age?” HYS. Predictable leveles of pro-BNP stuff, with “can’t find any racism on the website” remarks to boot. Let me reload for the next barrel of fish…
I don’t know what a “levele” is…
Me, the Man and Jeebus hardly ever get a concensus on anything except on scotch eggs. Oh and the fact that Mac is truly the twat of twats
p.s Iowa city’s gonna get such a plague of swine flu for this
What God wants is usually more for me and fuck you.
Can an non-existent entity actively want ANYTHING? I feel like being the arsehole who puts a downer on all this ‘what God wants’ buffoonery.
Funny, it’s usually the Christians who want to stop people having fun. Now it looks like the atheists want a part of the killjoy action too.
@Daley Mayle
You doubt my existence despite providing the world with wars, famines and Noel Edmonds?
Ha! You’re all missing the point because you didn’t read the Da Vinci Cod carefully enough. The whole thing – like, the WHOLE thing – is controlled by a secret cabal of gay Muslim Ghurka Jewish trombonists who relentlessly manipulate the media (and indeed Jaffa Cake production) to further their disgusting world-domination plans. WAKE UP BRITIAN! VOTE FOR GRIFFIN THE BARNET HAEMORRHOID!! (Oh, you did, sorry. Didn’t mean to shout. Carry on.)
Ha ha God error God error! You forget to capitalize Yourself there!
Go on, now smite Yourself (ooeer missus).
It should be pronounced to rhyme with Clovelly, and inserted into songs like what that one what begins “All Oi Want Is A Room Somewhere” and that, and then at the end you can sing “Oh Wouldn’t It Be Levele” and the world will make sense again.
I trust this intervention has been helpful. That will be nine shillings and sixpence, a rub down with some trombone slide cream, and a Jaffa Cake please. I thank you.
I’m sorry about all the nonsense I’ve typed. It’s very stressful sometimes. I am going to report myself at Administrator Intervention Required, as a disruptive user, a possible sockpuppet, a bad person who fails to Assume Good Faith (especially in the case of Griffin The Barnet Haemorrhoid) and generally a pain in the arse and mad with it.
They’re great these wikis aren’t they? Have you seen my List Of Episodes of Everything?
Riiiighhht. Turns out they’re not a racist party at all, just misunderstood. Glad we cleared that one up.
“Smiting” myself is how I got Mary up the duff. Its sort of the holy equivalent to the turkey baster
@God – I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for The Edmonds. Some grotesque fluke of evolution, surely?
Theology already! Truly, this place has everything!
woof woof woof
slurp slurp slurp
turkey baster
slurp yum yum
Get the fucking bastard!!!
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Sockpuppet
Woof woof woof
Bite bite bite
Here’s me working my fingers to the bone and you’re shut up in your bedroom all the time smiting. It’s smite, smite, smite all day long with you. You’ll end up blind like poor Mrs. Azathoth’s boy down the road. Heaven knows you’re already an idiot. What have I done that I should have such a son? Why can’t you settle down with a nice Jewish virgin, give me a grandson or two? Mrs. Allah’s son is such. a good boy, you should be more like him.
@God: Lord, in Thine Holy Scripture, I can find no mention of Pop Tarts. Canst Thou, in Thine Infinite Wisdom, please let us have er er the official line or Line on Thine Attitude towards the said snack?
I’ve been worrying about this. I mean I’m not even sure if they’re kosher.
Thank you
Dolly’s evil nemesis.
PS Sorry about killing Dolly and all that. Events just ran away with me a bit.
PPS If Thou feelst that it’s a bit borderline on the Pop Tarts, couldst Thou please perhaps look particularly closely at the Strawberry ones in case they can perhaps be sneaked in on some kind of technicality. In Thine Infinite Wisdom (they’re the nicest ones you see). Thankst Thou very much.
PPPS Sorry to bother Thee with all this: I know Thou’rt pretty busy with the rightwing Bastards and the Trombonists and everything. I just thought Thou mightest like a Break from all the Smiting and that.
Guidance on pop tarts:
pop tarts are good, but only if not eaten straight after getting them out of the toaster, as terible scalding can occur. I find the chocolate to be preferable to the strawberry, but then I am a heretic.
Pop tarts are kosher, but that sort of stuff went out of the window when a sheet full of unclean meat appeared in a dream to Peter. Don’t you know anything? Bad news for the piggies though…
@pigfrottage. Thankest Thou very much. I do hopest Thou Dost Speak with Divine Authority in this matter of Toaster Snacks, or is Thou just Trying It On a bit? If so, watchest out for the Smiting for it shall be great in His sight, yea, unto the tenth generation.
(No, I don’t know anything. Glad to have cleared that one up.)
Overest and outest. Amen.
God wants a good slap, he made a right pigs ear of my teeth…
Hi all. I’m back. How’s it all going?
“That’s exactly what Joy Pattinson charges for a not terribly well-executed blowjob in the lavatory just outside Zürich Hauptbahnhof.”
She got turfed out of Langstrasse for lowering the tone?
What does God want?
Considering that God is omnipotent, His mind reaches into the furthest flung corners of our Universe and perhaps beyond and that His understanding of the complexity of a single grain of sand dwarfs our own understanding of our own thoughts, I would think that he would like a curly-wurly and a packet of cheesy Wotsits.
Dolly’s evil nemesis is a Blasphemer! He doubts that I speak for the pop tart preferences of the Almighty!
[never mind]
Theodore H Biscuit
I think you are channelling the toaster from Red Dwarf. If so, continue…
White chocolate “Munchies” for me…
BURN THE HERETIC! BURN BURN! AHHHAHAHAAA BURN BURN BURN!
Oh hang on, that’s me.
Plippy plops.
God would like for this Universe to finish running so he can collect the results and make some sort of graph to show his boss.
I truly have come to love this website, the sarcastic hilarity, the randomness of the insultes, the way that john adairs gerbil is still commenting even though anyone new to the site is gonna completly miss the context…