Marge Greene and the devout deception.

Earthquakes, eclipses & sex crazed zombie cicadas oh my!

Let me be crystal clear here — Marge Greene could invite the entire Atlanta Braves baseball team to her daddy-made-money McMansion and suck them off one or two at a time while her husband, parents and pastor run a survivor pool on who cums last, and I wouldn’t give a fuck. In fact, I’d probably applaud her stamina and at the very least, marvel at her mouth’s ability to produce saliva.

As long as no one was being coerced or forced (ok, it’s Marge, so it does kind of imply that undercurrent of let’s be real here, but I digress). I just do not care. I simply do not have the time, the inclination nor the volume of Tito’s required, to care.

I don’t care what Jesus would say, or God, or a mega-bazillionaire Televangelist with a pool boy or whatever Bible name you want to pull out of your Papal hat would think. It doesn’t matter to me. I believe in God, sure, but I don’t need to run my thoughts and actions by him every minute of the day. I don’t pretend to live a pious life. I’m the antithesis of chaste. And I don’t adhere to a set of rules outlined in tablets or books or burning bushes. Although I will say that if in fact, your bush is burning, you might want to seek medical attention, and that might actually be the ONE thing that could plausibly be considered “devout” about Marge.

I don’t pretend to be someone or something I’m not when it comes to spirituality (or anything else for that matter). I don’t see the utility in it. And frankly, it all seems purty fucking boring to deprive oneself of shit that feels good and doesn’t hurt anyone for some old dude in the sky who never had sex and none of us have actually ever met.

On paper, I’m a shitty Christian so I don’t judge anyone by how undisciplined or “unholy” they are in their private lives. But I’m from Jersey, and everyone in the country hates us, so I’m still gonna judge.

It’s a state residency requirement after all.

I’ll judge you for being blissful in your ignorance. I’ll judge you for being a bigot. I’ll judge you for rooting for the Jets. I’ll judge you for driving too slow in the passing lane like a fucking asshole. And you know I’ll fucking judge you for calling Taylor Ham “pork roll.” But if you transgress according to a Bible verse I don’t know, I’m A. Not gonna know you did and B. Not gonna give a fuck.

UNLESS… you happen to be one of those people, like Marge — who wants the rest of us to know how you judge US. How the Good Book you say you embody, and very much do not, casts aspersions on us.

Unless you daily blabber on about how “disappointing” our words and actions and desire to expand human rights, embrace cultural differences and protect American democracy must be to God.

So disappointing, according to the Jewish Space Laser “lady” who’ll contentedly let the Ukrainians die, let the Capitol Police get bear-sprayed and let the American children starve, that she believes HE has unleashed earthquakes and eclipses upon the world. To “punish” us. For what, well, we don’t exactly know, aside from the fact that it wouldn’t happen under Trump, and “didn’t happen under Trump”, despite the fact that it very much did.

Yep. It’s time folks. Time to repent. The serial philanderer, habitual liar and bigoted blaspheme herself said so.