They wanted me to accept this pedophile Black preacher James Denton on the show; a show that was named after me: Kyle Johnson "Make The Right Decision." Ol' Pastor Denton on this shit with these elaborate shirt sleeves cuffs which were monogrammed/inscribed with his name on both cuffs with cuff links of diamonds that I am sure that set the preacher back a couple of thousand dollars. Cazal eyeglass frames another $650; the lenses to be put into that same frame, Physio Enhanced Fit PAL(Progressive Addition Lenses), Crizal Sapphire ARC (Anti Reflective Coating), Transitions Grey Xtra-Active lenses...settin the "preacher' back fo sho easily another three stacks just with his eyewear alone. But we are here in this studio to discuss poverty to the poverty stricken. The fuck man? Fuckin niggah pastors!
I had heard the vile things Pastor Denton had did and continues to sickeningly do with our youth. And I guess you have already surmised, I do not like the mother fucker; not one iota. Filthy waste of human fecal matter and sperm is the way that I had always seen him. There was no emotion on my face when I was introduced to him at the various functions around this finite world of Naptown; Indianapolis, Indiana. I never smiled at his trifling ass. Nor did I ever offer my hand as far as a gentlemanly introduction.
Shit! As far as I am concerned, yo ass is a preacher and it is known, not gossiped, that you fuck little boys as well as little girls...there ain't a goddamned thing we need to talk about with yo stanky funky sorry ass. Yao Ming? I don't ever have to interact with yo stank pedophile havin ass again.
And when we do meet again somewhere down the road of absolution for my family and I; I just may well will have to wipe yo funky sorry ass stank, worthless piece of fetid human flesh off of the face of this God Given Green Earth! Yah heard may? Amen!
But for now, I have to watch his sorry ass being in the forefront of this civil unrest in Baltimore, Maryland. Knowing full well with a spirit like "his" front and center, shit just gonna get worse, not better.
I have never seen nor read of how to make sour fruit or rotten food better. So, I definitely understand that it is what it is. After which, all that it is good for at that point is refuse or compost. I sighed as he tried again to put out his hand in greeting, and again I just looked at his outstretched huge hands, black as charcoal in color, then looked up with disdain. He just shrugged, not getting it at all, or maybe he just didn't give a damn anymore with his filthy self, and sat down in front of the guess microphone across from me.
I sighed heavily. Today just may be the day. I reached under the round counsel which we were sitting around, felt the familiar leather of my satchel; unclasped the flap; pulled the flap toward me, reached in to feel the cool safety of the steel...(to be continued)
No comments:
Post a Comment