(Legal Disclaimer; nothing written here applies to Benny Hinn)
Those selfless, poverty stricken little bast……ions of watertight moral integrity whose theistic circuses jet around the world distributing pious fraudulency and heavenly sleight-of-hand to those less fortunate, or confused, in return for a few shekels here, and entire bequeathed estates there.
During my life I have overheard many people say that I too am a real little bastion, or something very similar, so I have also decided to follow this hallowed calling.
GOF's own crusade of healing is about to hit the road.
My qualifications are impeccable on three levels;
1. Genetic Inheritance; Aloysius, the great-uncle of one of my second
cousins was a water diviner who, on at least one occasion, actually
discovered underground water using nothing more than two short
lengths of 8 gauge fencing wire, one held in each hand. His career
was sadly nipped in the bud when, soon afterwards, he thought he
had discovered a subterranean equivalent of the Amazon River,
and in all the excitement he poked both of his eyeballs out.
2. Training; At Agricultural College we found out during evenings of
utter boredom how to hypnotise chickens.
3. Personal Grooming; I bought a white suit to reflect my purity of
thought and saintly intentions. Gerald, the nice man who owns
the hair salon gave me the correct mix of hydrogen peroxide and
conditioner to make my flowing silver locks refract the stage lights
into a personal halo of holiness.
Last week, just to check that I still "had it", I performed two healing miracles.
Our incontinent dog was instantly cured midstream when the healing jolt of ecclesiastical energy from my hand was so powerful that it made him fall off the tractor seat he was sharing with me at the time.
Then the very next day, Mrs GOF, sitting in a highback chair was complaining of a sore hip, when, quite unexpectedly for her, the full mystical power of my palm was applied squarely to the centre of her forehead. Following this single act of loving compassion and healing, I have heard no more about this painful infirmity.
Today I am just standing-by waiting for a fistful of divine recharge, together with some scriptural instructions on how to cure her new whiplash injuries.
The Town Halls of Australia have been hired.
Special parking signs have already been prepared.
Hallelujah.
Pastor GOF's Ministry of Miracles is born, and, as God suggested to me last Tuesday, it will be travelling in a luxury Winnebago.
Before setting out I guess I should firstly pray for redemption for Australia's recently appointed Minister for Sin.
(What a complicated web of blogging confusion one doth weave)
The Bucket 
Oh, you made me laugh so hard! I don't know what part was better? The hypnotizing of the chicken, the instant cure for the incontinent dog….or Mrs. GOF's whiplash. And the thought of anyone, especially you, in a white suit….oh my. That was good, GOF!! So very funny. Thanks for keeping laughter in my life! Hey, if you ever get to my part of the world, in your "divine healing" travels, let me know. I could use some healing, or at the very least, some more laughs!
bast……ions
Gold.I knew you were blessed when that bird sat on your head and I'm surprised you forgot to mention you are as one with the animals.On a second viewing of your porridge photo, I do believe that was God on a bad day.At last a prophet (profit?) I can relate to. Can I be a Saint? I volunteer to be Saint Peter for a mere 3% of the take.
Today I am just standing-by waiting for a fistful of divine recharge,
together with some scriptural instructions on how to cure her new
whiplash injuries.If we don't hear from you for a few days we'll understand that a divine "revelation" hit you like a ton of bricks.
Have you remembered to apply your man-tan? You can't perform miracles unless you are exactly the correct shade of ecclesiastical orange. If you haven't got time to get any man-tan in, don't worry, a fairly thick layer of creosote works just as well.
And the thought of anyone, especially you, in a white suit.Thank you Freedom. If you actually knew me in real life you would understand precisely how bizarre the idea of me wearing a white suit is 🙂
bast……ionsI stole that one from my hero Tom Lehrer.
I knew you were blessed when that bird sat on your head and I'm surprised you forgot to mention you are as one with the animals.Well the bird actually shat on my hat a few times Pete, and that was an inappropriate metaphor to work into this story.You could be one of the "catchers" Reverend Saint Pete……after they reel backwards with the healing force , you could grab them before any severe impact with the floor gives them grounds for legal action.
If we don't hear from you for a few days we'll understand that a divine "revelation" hit you like a ton of bricks. She has banned any sort of religion from being practised in this house EVER AGAIN Snowy. Sometimes women are SO unappreciative.
Have you remembered to apply your man-tan?Damn, I knew I was missing something. Thank you for the reminder Vicola.I suspect you don't entirely have my best interests at heart by suggesting creosote, although I guess it would prevent me from being attacked by white ants or suffering from dry rot.Today I'm off to the salon for a tanning session. Special offer this week only. For a one hour appointment they are offering a free Brazilian. 'Tis my lucky day.
Well, we should have one day, this summer, or some official day when everyone posts a real picture of themselves 🙂 Of course, you could get a white suit for the occasion, if you wanted to!
Of course, you could get a white suit for the occasion, if you wanted to!I'll do it if you can convince that Grouchy Old Man to do it first.Good luck with that. 🙂
The healing hand … mmmm I think the white suit says it all. Poor Mrs GOF.
LOL…I know that will never happen. Oh well. Still a very funny thought!