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God and country, too fictional by far, have tricked enough people out there to throw their lives away for the promise of land or the promised land, according to some big prophets.
"If Islam isn't a superior religion to Christianity in every way," Mohammed said, sitting all over Jesus, "then there's no such thing as dying to go to heaven," he predicted, going to war.
Mohammed, a man on a mission, has spoken for the first time about the events he predicted would take place in the trenches of The Great War, that left an inedible impression on him.
"You had all these good Christian soldiers," he explained to a plastic Jesus, "and they just killed themselves for no reason on earth," he said, stomach turning. "Heaven's above."
Jesus, no stranger to killing himself, has spent a lifetime in "Hell" waiting for the day he could "return" to project himself upon others, thus enabling him to judge with extreme prejudice.
"I have returned," Jesus explained, melting hearts, "and I promise I won't kill myself," laughing John the Baptist's head off, he said, "A Suicidal Hero's Information Booklet" in hand.
God, a very promising writer of fictional texts, had a hand in the updated edition that just "killed them in The First World War", and predicted very big things for those dying to go.
"I can't hold it in anymore," God said, pissing himself. "I've about had it with the whole ungodly race," he explained about humans, "because they don't want my fiction in their lives."
Michael Jackson's former wife Lisa Marie Presley said Friday the pop star was a tortured soul who once predicted that he would "end up" like her father, the late rock icon Elvis Presley.
"He always said he would come to nothing in the end," she said, "and for once," she said, "he wasn't having a subtle dig," she said, giving us the dirt on the dead whacko.
He has dedicated his life to the Catholic church. For years he was a member of the NSW Anti-Discrimination Board and his work with HIV and AIDS sufferers in Sydney earned him a Medal of the Order of Australia (OAM) in 1994.
"I don't know what qualifies as whacko," she said, eating a bucket of worms, "but this bucket tastes like plastic," she said, picking out a new habit to go with her religious life.
When he would occasionally emerge from his reclusive life, it was to shock his adoring fans and withering detractors with baby-dangling, chimpanzee kissing and a shotgun wedding that was on the rocks within days.
"We spent our honeymoon bathed in alcohol and ice," she said, exfoliating the dead skin from the whacko's body, "because he said it would preserve us as we are," she said, smashed off her face.
He was reading from an autocue. Jackson couldn't manage to string a few sentences together on his own.
"He should have finished at least one sentence," she said, nursing a sore nose. "He was always fluffing," she said, farting loudly with Bubbles.
God-fearing Norm, one of God's precious creatures, fresh from "telling it how it is" to the uninformed and admiring, has lashed out at no-one in particular in a frightening attack.
"I, myself, don't believe in myself," Norm said, turning up the heat on the important and wonderful, "but Jesus," he prayed, "it's gotten awfully stuffy in here all of a sudden."
Norm, the unheralded Master of the Universe, has consistently been at pains to avoid coming off as being so full of himself it's not funny, to the extent that it's starting to hurt.
"It hurts right here," Norm, a touchy typist, said holding his hand over his mouth, "but," he said, clutching your arse, "I'm afraid this climate is caused by people being stuffy."
God, fearing Norm like the plague, has been in hiding for fear of what The Master of the Universe would do to him if he ever got his hands, infinitely more creative than God's, on him.
"My hands," God said, "pale in comparison to his," he said, in a moment of rare and refreshing humility. "The fact that I don't even exist makes life very difficult for me."
Norm, as precious as can be in God's non-existent eyes, has lashed out at passing traffic after tripping over his own feats, and nearly snapping his neck talking behind Jesus's back.
"I had to swiflty usher myself away," he said, clutching his arse. "You won't hear me say, I didn't deserve it," he said, holding his hands over your ears. "Jesus will have my arse, if I do."
Perez Hilton has shocked middle-aged, middle-managers and crack-licking, double-dealing dopes with the shocking news that he is a finger-licking arsehole and closet-opener.
"It was me all along," he said, sniffing a pinky. "I just have one question for you," he told a chick with a mouth like you wouldn't believe. "How do you feel about holes in the head
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Adam and Eve, the god-fearing couple of weak minds and weaker flesh, having succumbed to temptation, have told of the hell they endured raising a butchering bastard.
"I always knew he was rotten," Eve said, munching on an apple. "I tried the best I could," she said, "but when God adopted that less than gay stance with him, he was furious
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Pop-icon, Mikhail Jackson has been found alive and well living in the Soviet enclave of Australia after defecting to the other side because of a legal wrangle over his wife.
"Report of my demise have been greatly exaggerate," Mikhail Jackson, barely able to conceal his true intentions of dismantling churches and infiltrating public forums, said
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If there's one thing that makes me mad it would have to be mental illness. It's just one of those things that makes me insane with rage. It's not unfair to say that I hold myself partly responsible for most of that. If I am one thing it's definitely insane with rage. Sometimes I get so mad it makes me crazy. When I'm in a stink the smell is enough to put anyone off. On that, it makes my eyes water to think that. The smell of my stinking madness is so on the nose it gets right up my proverbial. If it makes any sense, I think that it doesn't make any. If that makes any sense, I think that it's nothing but nonsense. If there's one thing that scares me more than anything it has to be nothing. Anything could be less likely to make me scared than nothing. It's not unfair to say that anything goes when nothing is on. On that, it has to be that nothing scares me like my own capacity for just about anything. If there's one thing that makes me feel slightly unwelll it would have to be a case of going a bit mental. Mania and depression: makes me mad.
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Comment by Norm
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