Get your fresh, hot evil glurge right here!

Sent to me by my sister-in-law. When I read it, my first thought was to send it back to her with a simple, “You’re fucked up if you think this is good,” but I decided that peace in the family was more important in the end. I truly believe this is evil glurge at its best. (Note: spelling and grammar kept the same. I only fixed the all caps.)

After a few of the usual sunday evening hymns, the church’s pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was in the service that evening. In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service.

With that, an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak. “a father, his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the pacific coast,” he began, “when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to the shore. The waves were so high, that even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized.” the old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began, looking somewhat interested in his story. The aged minister continued with his story, "grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: to which boy he would throw the other end of the life line. He only had seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son was a christian and he also knew that his son’s friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves.

“as the father yelled out, ‘i love you, son!’ he threw out the life line to his son’s friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat, his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered.” by this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old minister’s mouth. “the father,” he continued, “knew his son would step into eternity with jesus and he could not bear the thought of his son’s friend stepping into an eternity without jesus. Therefore, he sacrificed his son to save the son’s friend. How great is the love of god that he should do the same for us. Our heavenly father sacrificed his only begotten son that we could be saved. I urge you to accept his offer to rescue you and take a hold of the life line he is throwing out to you in this service.” with that, the old man turned and sat back down in his chair as silence filled the room. The pastor again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal.

Within minutes after the service ended, the two teenagers were at the old man’s side. “that was a nice story,” politely stated one of the boys, “but i don’t think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son’s life in hopes that the other boy would become a christian.” “well, you’ve got a point there,” the old man replied, glancing down at his worn bible. A big smile broadened his narrow face, he once again looked up at the boys and said, “it sure isn’t very realistic, is it? But i’m standing here today to tell you that story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for god to give up his son for me. You see — i was that father and your pastor is my son’s friend.”

Q: What’s this? ---------> BLEAARRRGH!!

A: The sound of me vomiting on my keyboard.

BLEEEEEECH!

And now you know … the rest … of the stooooory.

This now makes me wish I had voted for a “vomit” smiley in the smiley poll. However, I will have to settle for this:

:rolleyes: :rolleyes: :rolleyes: :rolleyes:

(I’m usually not big on smileys, but damn, that was just hideous.)

Wow, so… If I’m not a christian, I’m more likely to be pulled out a raging sea than if I were? Athiesm it is, woohoo!! :slight_smile:

Holy crap, that was bad! Ewww Eww Eeeeeeewww!

Sigh… I imagine something like it will show up in my inbox soon. :rolleyes: I recently gave my new email address to a close relative who ADORES that kind of thing.

All hail the mighty delete button.:stuck_out_tongue:

Glurge - the ultimate way to lose one’s appetite in the morning.

Thanks for the new diet!

:wink: E.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…

That one was physically painful. WTF?? Sounds like someone needs to re-write it for you to send back to her.

Who thinks up this shit?

Zette

My mind is falling out.

But hey! As a non-christian, I am all for this!

Note to self. Only go boating with christians. Hand them this before embarking.

I’ve never been to a church that had teenagers sitting in the front row

and that was my first clue that this was going to be a doozy

Oy vez mir.

It’s only a matter of time till this one shows up in my inbox. :rolleyes:

This is why I always keep a paper bag handy at my desk.

Words fail me.

The person for forwards crap like that to my email addy will know pain and suffering.

I have a ‘special’ ‘message’ full of ‘love and caring’ all ready to be sent back expressing the ‘love’ I feel for ‘people’ who send me crap like that.

I wish there was a straight-faced, stoic smiley. This was as tasteless and unsatisfying as a bowl of corn flakes.

Not to mention just plain sick. Is there some rule saying priests can’t swim?

Glurge is basically a virus. So, I fine myself contemplating vaccines.

Now, a lot of vaccines can be made by taking the virus in question, and killing/weakening it, so that it maintains its form but has the opposite effect.

I envisage a glurge-style story, about a devout fellow who writes glurge. (It won’t be called that, of course; that will only cause the vaccine to be rejected by those who are memetically susceptible to glurge strains.) The story goes, one day he puts the final polishing touches on the best piece he’s ever written–here there should be a short snippet of pure grade-A glurge, nothing sarcastic (too easy) in it, just straight-up glurgy glurginess, as for what he wrote. The subject of what he wrote is, glurge as a form of prayer and communion.

Seeing that it is good, the fellow rests, intending to kick it off into the usual glurge vectors of well-meaning but slightly dim relatives and coworkers upon the next day.

That night he dreams of Jesus, who has some choice words with relevant Gospel quotes from his irritated harangues of hypocritical Pharisees and those who will come crying Lord! Lord! that he never knew. Glurge Writer will protest that it’s a form of prayer–reiterating the message of the glurge-quotation (remember, the people who need to be vaccinated are kind of dim, so things bear repetition), and Jesus will respond again with choice quotes about the proper way to pray–privately, and not in public, and then will give a little lesson on how e-mailing all and sundry is very public indeed.

There should also be other antibody-pieces in the same vein, but adjusted.

I think there’s the seeds of a plan here.

<retch> <retch> <retch> <retch>

I have just thrown up everything I have eaten, hell, even thought about eating or even been near, for the past six months.

This. Is. The. ULTIMATE. Glurge.

And the damn POS will probably be in my inbox before the week is over.

<retch> <retch> <retch> <retch>

Of course, the old man had neglected the epilogue of the story: the father is finally on his deathbed. As he slips into the black void of oblivion, he is surprised to find there is no tunnel of light or savior there to greet him. “Damn,” he thinks. “Maybe I saved the wrong one after all…”

So I’m supposed to take moral guidance from someone too stupid to bring lifejackets when sailing and to pass them out when the weather gets rough?