Thursday, March 31, 2011

The tale of Raptor Jesus's bum bum (too hot for TV!)

We will be taking a break from the retelling of the Book of Mormon for a little while.

Raptor Jesus noted that nobody is donating yet to his church!  Thanks a lot assholes.

Therefore, I have to fill in some of my back story in order to get my manuscript ready for publishing.

Because I was going to Germany for my mission, I was forced to endure two whole months of endless classes in the Missionary Training Center (MTC) filled with the sounds of other Elders farting from all the orange juice and processed meat.

(Starting off with farts - this is going to be fucking classy.)

All day long every day. Sitting on your noisy ass, listening to German lessons, "gospel" lessons, and learning how to emotionally manipulate people.

Occasionally we would get some much needed exercise with an hour of "gym time." This would be where sweaty Elders would get to play all kinds of sports. The choices were endless! Basketball or Volleyball.

Afterwards we would all strip naked and get into the shower together and frolic. Our young, virile bodies would be lathered up and the hot spray of water would wash the world's dirt from our heavily muscled bodies. At some point one of us in the District would pee on Elder Fuckwit's leg. He was a douche. Such a big douche that even the most self-righteous of the lord's army would not think twice of pissing on the back of his leg during shower time.

Fuck that guy. If I ever see him again, I won't need another MTC sanctioned shower time to give him one of my own.

After both blue and golden showers we would head back to class. Yup, every fucking day. Wake up, listen to Elder Fuckwit demand that his companion get out of bed "right this minute" while the companion tries to find a nice way of saying, "I HAVE MORNING WOOD, FUCKWIT! I'M NOT JUMPING OUT OF BED AND INTO THE SHOWER WITH A GIANT ERECTION! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU FREAK???" Then off to class, then food, then more class, then food, then more class, then food, then more class.

One morning by body had had enough. My woman swooning penis burned. Burned like some violent angel had shoved a flaming sword up my urethra. I couldn't sit down. And it felt like I had tinkle all the time. And tinkling was shudder inducingly painful. I was dribbling out molten lava from my otherwise delectable ding dong.

I was pretty sure that I had a bladder infection, but I was praying that it wasn't some kind of STD from my girlfriend whom I had fucked before going on a mission.


Anyway, I told my teacher that my delightful dingaling was broken, and I needed to see the doctor.

My companion and I went to the doctor. Her practice was on the MTC grounds, but the office looked just like any other doctor's office that had been overrun by missionaries.

And so we waited in the aptly named waiting room. And while we waited in the waiting room we happened to meet another missionary who was extremely talkative. He was going to Poland on his mission. He was very excited. His companion looked like he was going to kill himself. He had so many girls who were writing to him. How many girls did we have writing to us? Do you want to see all the hot girls that were writing to him? No? Too bad, here are some pictures.

12 maybe 14 year old girls.

My companion and I look at each other. No words were said, but we said, "What the FUCK???"

We look at his companion. The companion wordlessly says, "I know. I know. I'm with this guy for 24 hours a day EVERY day for TWO months. If you were to stab me to death with your fiery dick, I'd thank you, and god would make your 'election sure.'"

The nurse called me back to the doctor's patient room. After some more waiting per Seinfeld's stand up comedy routine, the doctor finally comes in.

What's the problem?

My dragon is spitting real fire instead of metaphorical fire.

Ok, slide your pants down, lie on the table on your side, and hug your knees to your chest.

Uh, what?

Slide your pants down, lie on the table on your side, and hug your knees to your chest.

So I'm going to...


Ok, bitch, jesus. I slide my pants down, lie on the table on my side and hug my knees to your chest, while she puts on rubber gloves.

I start to ask, so what are you...

It may have been her finger, or it may have been a giant spiked dildo being shoved up my ass. Either way, I'm pretty sure I swore.

Diagnosis: Prostatitis.

Pretty common for missionaries who aren't used to sitting on their flatulent asses for 9 hours a day. Here are some pills that will make your pee turn green blue that you'll use to pee into a Gatorade bottle, but won't be able to find any Elders that will drink it.


And what was the point of this story? Well, Raptor Jesus got fingered in the MTC by an older woman.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Begging for Money Just like every other Goddamn Church You've ever been to

Raptor Jesus is like every other deity you've come across.

He needs money!  Specifically YOUR money!  If you'll notice, there are Donate buttons on the blog now.

HINT motherfucking HINT.

All proceeds go to a great cause.  ME!  The more money I get, the more I can write.  The more I can write, the more you can laugh at potty words.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Setting goals as a missionary.

Some time ago I had a nice conversation with someone, and he reminded me of the absolute ricockulousness of setting goals as missionaries.

For those of you who don't know, or hoped to forget (tough shit, I'm bringing it up) every week the missionary and his bestest assigned missionary buddy friend would sit down and set some stupid ass goals. These goals would be about how many discussions the missionaries would teach (for the week) and how many baptisms (for the month) they would get. Why? Because that's what Jesus would do. And Jesus would also demand that these numbers be recorded up through the rank and file of the missionaries, and also how well the missionaries performed at their own goals. Jesus was a high achiever. He had read Stephen Covey and knew that in order to achieve great things, he had to set sub-goals that directly related to the main goal and then check the progress of the sub-goals in order to stay on track with the large goals.


Now because Raptor Jesus is a snarky bastard, goal setting was NOT fun for his companion.

Start Scene: (a shitty apartment in a town off Frankfurt. Raptor Jesus emerges from the bathroom where he was going "potty" --jerking off).

Companion: Ok, Elder Jesus, we need to set our weekly goals.

RJ: Ok, let's get it over with.

C: Now, Elder, that's not the kind of attitude we should have. Setting goals is a great way to show our love of the Lord.

RJ: Whatever.

C: How many baptisms are we going to have this month?

RJ: 0

C: Elder, that's not very 'faithful.'

RJ: No, it's realistic.

C: Elder...

RJ: No, seriously. Are we teaching anyone?

C: No.

RJ: Ok, then. 0. We have to be teaching discussions in order to baptize people. If we don't teach discussions, we can't baptize people. So by having 0 discussions that we are teaching, that should lead to approximately 0 baptisms for the month.

C: But Elder you are missing the point.

RJ: Am I?

C: Yes. Where is your faith? The lord will bless us if we have faith, and setting these goals shows that we have faith. Now, how many baptisms are we going to have this month?

RJ: 80.

C: Elder.

RJ: What?

C: Is that a REASONABLE goal? We need to set reasonable goals.

(Even though Raptor Jesus's brain hadn't broken yet, he starts having flashbacks. His flashbacks take him to a particular movie called "Office Space" and a scene where a young Jennifer Aniston is arguing with her manager over how many pieces of "flair" she should be wearing on her work outfit.)

RJ: I said that Reasonable was 0.

C: But it's not faithful enough.

RJ: Then 80.

C: But that's not reasonable. We'll never baptize that many.

RJ: Now where's YOUR faith, elder?

C: Elder...

RJ: Fine. Three. Three baptisms this month.

C: Why three?

RJ's Brain: Are you fucking kidding me??? Three is the number I always pick you dumb asshole because it shuts you up. It's the mediocre number that seems "reasonable" to every other insane person out here even though we NEVER hit that number. NEVER. NOT EVER. WE ALWAYS BAPTIZE A TOTAL OF 0 PEOPLE PER MONTH. BUT WE ALWAYS SAY WE'LL BAPTIZE THREE!

RJ's Mouth: Fine, then. 2

C: No, 3 is good. I'll put down 3.

(End scene.)

Let's Take a break from the Book of Mormon (The Golden Investigator who was thwarted by Satan)

My companion (the dick) and I hadn't been having too much luck wandering the streets of Langen. Those stupid Germans with their "critical thinking skills" and "education" didn't want to hear about a fourteen year old boy finding golden plates and talking to angels for some reason we couldn't figure out.

Something must have been wrong with them. Of course that was Satan. That rat bastard must have been running around before we got there telling people to "harden their hearts" and not give up booze and 10% of their income to people who can only promise happiness after they are dead.

But our Mission President had given us great advice. We were not "fishers of men" but "hunters."

What the fuck is the difference?

Well, fishers of men can use big ass nets and gather up lots of people like those missionaries in South America who have lots of baptisms that don't last very long.

In Europe we have to hunt men. Single kills that take a long time to track down. We may have to work extra hard to find that one person to baptize-- that won't last very long.

I don't remember the exact details, but I'm pretty sure that my companion had just finished some bullshit story that totally topped my story that I had just told because that's the way he was. No story shared could go without Elder Cocksmith piping in about a WAY better story than yours. Tracting wasn't going very well so we decided to check up on someone who had taken the first discussion and had been given a copy of the Book of Mormon.

We knock on his door and surprise sur-fucking-prise we are actually invited in. The man was a very nice, soft-spoken Spanish immigrant. He was incredibly cordial and offered us some tea (not BLACK! THAT TEA IS EVIL!). We sipped tea and I distinctly remembered how impeccably decorated his apartment was - and how many pictures of his mother he had.

We asked him how his reading had been going and he said good. We started sneaking in a second discussion. Things were going well. This man was very sensitive to the spirit, and really liked the discussion.

It came time for the baptism challenge of the second discussion. I had always thought it was kind of weird that you would ask for someone to be baptized before you finished teaching them all of the gospel, but who was I to question the spirit? When the spirit tells you to do something, you fucking do it. Even if it means cutting off some drunk asshole's head in a gutter, dressing up in his clothes, and then stealing his shit after wards.

My companion and I gave the visual glance to each other that it was time to ax.

Will you be baptized?


Hooooooooooooly shit! This fucker said, "yes." Finally! I was going to bag and tag my first convert.

We set a date, and a date to start teaching the rest of the discussions. We were so happy. We called the mission president. It was a miracle! The Church was so fucking true!

A day or so went by and we went back to our appointment. We started to teach the discussion. My companion and I were still very happy, but the man seamed uneasy.

Uh oh. What's wrong? What happened?

Elders, do you believe in reincarnation?

No. Why?

Well what if there's something you struggle with that you just can't overcome in this world? Couldn't you come back to try again?

No, we only get one shot in this world. It is a test. We have to show god how much we love his rules (even though they might destroy us mentally or physically.)

The door opens and another man walks in. The spirit gets the fuck right out of there.


The man is pissed at seeing two hot young studs in suits in his kitchen with his partner.


We leave, we are so sad. Our golden contact - thwarted by Satan.



The one being in this universe that could tempt people to believe that butt sex was worth giving up not only your eternal salvation, but also all the ridicule and emotional torture of everyone else.

Fuck you, Satan.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Book of Mormon Part 11 (Wrapping up the Book of Mosiah with a Passive Agressive Hippy Love In)

Mosiah is a big "book" in the Book of Mormon.  And we are almost done (thank god).  But don't get too antsy.  We've got the book of Alma yet, and that thing is a monster.  Luckily it doesn't have too much "new" material in it.  Pretty much just more of the same Indians are evil and lazy, and god hates dissenters, and faith is magically delicious.  And so on.  But we'll deal with that later.

For now we are going to talk about some chapters that aren't about killing in the name of god.

Chapter 25 starts off with Mosiah authorizing Alma to organize the "Church of God."

Yeah, it only took a couple hundred years for god to decide that an actual church might be nice.  Before it was just a couple of prophets ranting about what people should do, but now they need an actual organization so that each Sunday these poor people can show up with their begrudging families and be bored out of their minds.

So they get baptized to wash off all the shit they've done in their lives that god hates them for, and they now are ready to feel superior to the rest of the people, and make sure they get baptized too.

Mosiah Chapter 26: 38  "And now all these things did Alma and his fellow laborers do who were over the church, walking in all diligence, teaching the word of God in all things, suffering all manner of afflictions, being persecuted by all those who did not belong to the church of God."

This is a great scripture because it demonstrates a lot.  Nothing says religion more than being persecuted.  I mean, what the fuck is up with that?  All you are trying to do is tell everyone else that:

1.  They are evil and need to repent.

2.  You have the truth and they don't.

3. They need to do what you tell them to do.

4. God hates them.  Well, he LOVES them, but will punish them eternally for not obeying what you told them that god told your leader to tell you to tell them to do.

And they have the gall to call you names and tell you to shut the fuck up.  Those motherfuckers.  They should burn in hell forever.

Mosiah was a pretty smart ass king.  He made it illegal that "there should not any unbeliever persecute any of those who belonged to the church of God." Mosiah 27: 2.

Good, those godless assholes.  Mosiah knew about freedom of religion way before Americans knew that homosexuals were trying to destroy it.  That's why you've got to make laws.  Tell those godless, fellatious twat-lickers to leave your church the hell alone.

That's equality.

Besides what has secularism ever done for us?  Jack fucking shit.  Now pardon me for a second as I'm getting a text on my cell phone that I have to respond to.

Ok, where were we?  Oh right the church thing.  So, Mosiah spreads peace throughout the land by telling god dissenters where to shove it.  But this law doesn't stop his sons and the son of Alma (who is also called Alma) from trying to destroy the church.  They were naughty teenagers who did get upon many of the elderly's lawns and it came to pass that they also had wicked ass parties when their elders were out of town on business.  And all manner of keggers were thrown and much dry humping spread across the land.  And one of the daughters of Mosiah did give unto the people such great hand jobs freely that she became known as "handy" in fourth period English.

God wasn't too happy about people shitting on his church that he sent down an Angel to the son of Alma and told him to knock it the fuck off and to go on a mission to spread the gospel.  Let me look up the exact reference.  Acts 13: 9-12.  Wait, that was Paul.  Oh well, whatever.

Anyway, Alma realizes that he should stop being such a douche and goes with the sons of Mosiah to preach to the godless heathens so that the heathens might stop hating the Flanders, er Nephites.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The Book of Mormon Part 10 (The impending Zombie Apocalypse)

The last post had some very homo erotic pictures in them and if you readers are good, you might find some more in this post.  But I'm not promising anything.  And I'm not NOT promising anything either.  Whatever that's supposed to mean.

Abinadi was imprisoned by the evil King Noah and was showing off how much god loves huge, rippling pythons wrapped around steel trees.  Abinadi might as well have been auditioning for soft core gay porn. But we already mentioned that Abinadi wasn't long for this world.  I just wanted to bring it up because I have a titillating scripture to share.

"Yea, and I will cause that they shall have burdens lashed upon their backs; and they shall be driven before like a dumb ass." Mosiah 12:5

Tee hee.  And you thought the scriptures couldn't be fun.  Shame on you.

Abinadi gets killed, but not before he's allowed by god to share the ten commandments.  And, yes, that may seem pretty weird that if god would protect someone that the last message would be the ten commandments.  But you have to remember that god is a total attention whore and the first three commandments are all about properly licking god's sticky ass.

If the death of Abinadi gets you all bothered (where the picture may have gotten you hot and bothered), don't worry.  God gets revenge eventually on king Noah.  That adult onset diabetes case gets burned to death just as what happens to Abinadi.  God loves poetic justice when he isn't just commanding absolute genocide.

Ok now what?  The title promised zombies.  Where the fuck are the zombies???

Calm down, asshole.  About half the Book of Mormon is about racism and violence, the other half is about preaching shit.  And the zombies come in the preaching parts.

Everyone is aware of the story when Jesus rose from the dead.

And some religions talk about that eventually everyone will be able to come forth as a zombie in the future.  But who?  And when?  And possibly how?

Well, the Book of Mormon has a few answers to this.  Mosiah Chapter 15 talks about having two resurrections.  That's right TWO!  That means that you have to stockpile enough weapons, ammo, and pornography to survive two fucking separate hordes of people rising from the graves to feast on the living.  Verses 21-26 talk about that the first people to try to claw their way into your poorly boarded up house will be people who loved Jesus - the king of the Zombies.  So, these people will be out for vengeance because you said some terrible things about Jesus, and he has some pretty low self esteem.  People who talk badly about him don't last too long in the scriptures, so you're pretty much fucked.  Always have at least one bullet left for yourself because those zombie hordes can be a bitch, and do you really want to go out torn apart by former fundies?  Or do you want to die with some dignity by offing yourself?

Also, don't get too attached to those neighbor kids either because verse 25 tells us that children will be part of the first resurrection.  Be ready to put those undead ankle biters down before they literally bite your ankles and you become one with the mindless horde.  It may seem rough to use your shotgun to waste rotting children, but just think back to all the times those children got in the way of your hopes, dreams, or ruined your fancy diner at the Cheesecake Factory where you were just trying to get your wife drunk enough that she'd finally give you a blowjob after 15 years of goddamn marriage and then you get a phone call that someone has been jumping up and down on the dishwasher door and that's at least $300 FUCKING DOLLARS THAT YOU DON'T HAVE RIGHT NOW!!

Boom! That's a headshot, and I'm proud of you.  Undead people aren't really people, and only the worst philosophy professor/religious type would judge you for it.

Yes, be prepared for the coming zombie apocalypse.  The Xtians may be looking forward to the day that people rise from the grave, living in an eternal state of happiness simply because eternal happiness only means a rotting frontal cortex wrapped around a living brain stem, and either killing off the unbelievers or finding a way to infect them to become the same.  Humanity will only achieve ultimate peace when everyone is exactly the same and can't think for itself.

The zombie apocalypse is our Xtian future.  The time when we will all be saved.  From our own thoughts and hence, our selves.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Book of Mormon: Part 9 Do we have to? This is sooooo boring!

Raptor Jesus is back from Hawaii.  God tried to kill me for blasphemy, but his aim is still terrible.  People accuse god of destroying shit all across the world for sinners in other parts of the world.  Usually the gays get all the blame, but the parts of the world that get destroyed have just as many gays as any other part of the world.  Sometimes no gays are even destroyed.  Sometimes it is just birds.

But let's cut god some slack.  If you were as big of a rage-ahol as he is and as drunk with power, you'd probably be a terrible shot too.  So once again tragedy has struck the world and it's just a matter of time before some one reminds us that god killed all those innocent people and devastated lives because of some other people somewhere else were doing something that god doesn't quite approve of.

What else is new?

The place that we left off in the Book of Mormon--that's what's new!  Hooray!  Maybe we'll get to a place where the American Indians aren't being called names by god, but let's not count our lazy Lamanites before they sin.

King Benjamin just gave his enfeebled speech about being gay for Jesus while being enfeebled.  I would be remiss to leave this without telling you that some smart mouthed "so called intellectuals" think that King Benjamin's speech was cribbed by a Bishop M'Kendree.  But what would "so called intellectuals" know?  If they were real intellectuals, they wouldn't be "so called."  They would just BE intellectuals.

But that's not what we're here for.  We're here to have Raptor Jesus read the Book of Mormon for us, and then give us the highlights!

Ok, kick this shit into high gear, General Raptor!

King Benjamin lets his son Mosiah reign as a king.  And Mosiah made it reign!  He made that motherfucker reign so hard that he was curious about some other peeps in his house of reign, so he sends his wing man Ammon and Ammon's entourage to this place called Nephi-Lehi where this dude named Limhi is king.  Now Limhi doesn't know about Ammon and friends, so he puts the group in prison.  But then once he learns who Ammon is, HE LETS HIM GO.

HOLY SHITBALLS!!! See Limhi's people are enslaved by those dirty, dirt worshiping Lamanites, and Limhi is too useless to do anything about it himself, so he needs Ammon and his party to take care of it for him.  Now at this point you might be saying, "I swear to god, I've played this side quest in EVERY FUCKING ROLE PLAYING GAME EVER!" but remember that this was written BEFORE any Dungeon and Dragons derivative game that you've ever played.  So, maybe be a little thankful, ok? You ungrateful sack of giraffe vomit.

But, before Ammon gets to go, Limhi tells him a story of a prophet named Abinadi who went to the Lamanite King of the time and preached some heavy Jesus shit.  And the Lamanite King (Noah) wasn't too happy about this.  This little sub plot may be quickly overlooked.  But not to Mormons because of this one picture of the scene that gets shown in Sunday School whenever the topic is brought up:

FUCK ME!  Did you see that?  Sweet god, what a fucking buff old guy.  Abinadi has two tickets to the gun show, are you going with him?  Or are you just going to stay at home and diddle your private places to this picture?  I know I'm having a hard time deciding.

And look at King Noah.  What a fat ass.  You know he's a piece of shit because he's obese and has a dark beard.  Although the way he's stroking his beard, it might be to keep his mind off how good Abinadi looks without a shirt.  Whew!!!  Even those chained up jaguars are threatened by that taught delectable man meat in front of them.

If Abinadi didn't have such an important message of Jesus, you know that Abinadi would just flex and break right through those chains as if they were made of pasta.

Abinadi's love for HGH was for naught though.  He was put to death.  Oh, well.  I guess that's what you get for saying a bunch of shit about Jesus and trying to tell people how to live without any actual proof.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Raptor Jesus in Hawaii.

Let's take a quick break from the Book of Mormon because I ain't by me scriptures, and I be in Hawaii.

Mrs. Raptor Jesus (MRJ) and I aren't extremely familiar with the islands because I've only been here once and she hasn't been here at all.  The last time I was here was right after I graduated from High School and the most vivid memory was sitting in a hot tub and having my Mormon beliefs berated by a Southern Baptist.

Now I have jettisoned my Mormon beliefs but my philosophy remains the same.  Whatever you believe, you do NOT EVER have to take shit from a Southern Baptist.  Seriously the stupid shit they believe in is at least as asinine as the shit you believe in--if not worse.  You're most likely being berated by a dipshit who believes that every bible story happened literally, and also doesn't even know one one hundredth of the bible stories either.  He just KNOWS that they literally happened.  A twat for brains that will deny right to your face a contradiction in the bible that you point out to him, but in the same breath will tell you that you believe in "magic." And "that's crap!"

Ok, whatever douche.  Have fun acting just as superior to the rest of the world because you KNOW you've been "saved" just as every true believing Mormon acts superior because they KNOW that they are in the ONE TRUE CHURCH.

But we aren't here to discuss that.  That was just a setup for the real story.

Mrs. Raptor Jesus and I needed to know where we could get something to eat, and we aren't typical Americans.  And by that I mean that we don't go to foreign places to eat at chain restaurants.  We don't fly across the ocean and then say, "Oh thank god! There's a Red Lobster here."

No.  We want to go to where good local food is served.  But we were unaware of where that might be.  So we decided to check with the concierge because that would be an appropriate person to ax.

Something was amiss with this particular concierge.  We sat at his desk, and he lazily axed, "HowareyouwhatcanIdoforyou?"

Us: Ok, we just want to know where we should go for dinner tonight.  We kind of want just some suggestions about local food.

Him: Pffffffffffffff.  Weeeeeeeell, food, huh?

Us: Uh, yeah.

Him: Where are you guys from?

Us: California

Him (pulls out a map of the island):  California? Well, right here is the mall.  There's lots of food there.  There's like a California Pizza Kitchen there, and Bubba Gump's Shrimp.

Us: Ok?...........How about local stuff?  Like, not chains we could eat at in California.

Him:  I guess there's also here. (Draws a big circle encompassing a half mile radius).  This is the other shopping district and international shopping district too.  The whole place is just restaurant after restaurant.  I'm sure there's some good stuff there.

Us (getting up): Ok, thanks we guess.

We did end up going to the international market and getting local food there along with some new clothes that we bartered down to almost nothing.  But the locals had their revenge when the diarrhea hit.