Sunday Bloody Sunday

I appreciate a good Sunday. I know that seems a tad odd considering Sundays are set aside for all things heavenly, but over the millennia I have come to find a few things I just adore about Sundays.

For one, people feel safe on Sunday. Nothing bad can happen to the devout on Sunday, right? Little old ladies scurry off to church. Children pick their noses in the pews. The priests (many of whom were drunk just hours beforehand) drone on and on and on about Jesus and his teachings. Blah, blah bloody fucking blah.

Little do all those religious bores know, my minions and I are waiting for them right outside the doors of their little churches. While they are praying, we are preying. We love to pounce when defenses are down. And it is just so easy to get the righteous to sin right after a good long Mass. If I only had a soul for every altar boy who left the confines of the church only to run off and smoke a nice fat joint a few blocks away. And that’s only the small stuff. Don’t get me started on all of the rapes and murders and robberies that are committed by people who just left church. It makes me downright randy!

Another reason to love Sunday is Monday. No one likes Monday. Because of this, most people spend the entirety of Sunday dreading the next day. Do you know how many gloomy Gus losers I have been able to talk off ledges on a Sunday? I have a whole section of Hell set aside just for those guys.

So you can spend the morning praying if you really must. I don’t mind. It won’t do you any good. I always get my man.

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

It’s been a busy week down here in the scorching depths of Hell. First off I discovered that that pesky son-of-bitchy-virgin Jesus Christ has started a blog. Leave it to the holier-than-thou Son of God to use the internet to spread the Word of his Daddy. I am the one who created the internet, damn it! I’m the one who made it easy for people to access porn, fill their brains with misinformation and procrastinate on the job with just a click of the mouse. Does He have no respect for my creation? Sure, I have none for His creations. But I am Lucifer! It’s my fucking job to shit on anything that my old pal Jesus creates.

So I am doing what I do best. I am fighting fire with fire. And no one trumps Satan when it comes to fire. If Jesus can find time to keep a blog, I can find time to keep a blog. It’s not like my job is all that hard anyway. I got the evil ball rolling a few thousand years back, and the human race has done a devilishly good job of keeping that ball rolling for me.

Besides, there is no better day than Friday the 13th for someone like me to enter the blogging game. I am sure you’d agree.

In other news, I had to deal with Don Imus this week. I’ve been whispering in that man’s ear for years and he has never been one to turn away. I thought it would take forever for the shit to hit the fan, but he finally said the one thing that made all of my fiendish dreams come true.

“That’s some nappy-headed hos there.” Who knew it would be so simple?

Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson fell right into my trap. They led the movement to bring down Imus. It was a little sad to see him finally taken down a peg, but even the good ones have to be sacrificed at some point. Even Jesus would agree with that one. And in the end, it was well worth it.

The hypocritical duo of Sharpton and Jackson did just what I counted on. They threw the race card all over the place, completely ignoring the fact that they also have the tendency to succumb to my temptations and act as racist pigs from time to time. They got what they wanted this time, and I am sure they feel quite smug about. But if anyone deserves to feel smug, it is I. Jesus is crying for those poor bastards because He knows all three of them will soon be roasting in my fiery living room. And I have special spot for them right by the fireplace.

I love it when the righteous fall even further from grace and continue to think they are working in tandem with the big man upstairs. Nothing is more glorious than that!