Gawd Calls One of His Swine Home

Big Old Blubbery, Pig-Jowled Jerry Falwell Called Home to Glory
Folks, I swear on my wolf mother's grave that I just recently was palavering over Jerry Falwell looking like he was eating himself into the grave--several posts back--like Jerry last time I saw him looked like he'd just pulled away from a table groaning with a platter of ham steaks floating in red-eye gravy with two tons of collards and candied sweet potatoes on the side, along with three platters of fried chicken (the greasy old Mammy Falwell kind) with a pot of lima beans (chocked full of lean) and a little chicken fat-milk white gravy on the side, and, hell, for desert, how 'bout a huge portion of that old South peach cobbler--yeah, man, Jerry, pull up a chair here pal and eat what Gawd hath provided--whoooo-ey, look at them center-cut pork chops, Mammy Falwell's whipping out on us, Brother Jerry, think you have room in that barrel belly for a half-dozen of these beauties, and some of this mushroom gravy over 'em, too?

Yep, old Jerry Falwell has joined his "silent majority" movement in DEATH! No, I am sorry to say Gawd didn't pluck old Jerry up straight to heaven--hell no, Jerry weighed about 400 pounds and Gawd had no heavy-duty chariots to cart old fatso much higher and the steeple of Jerry's hillbilly church down thar in Lynchburg--they should cremate his old sorry ass--you know, barbecue a couple hundred racks of ribs over his old simmering carcass.

So, goodbye, Jerry.

Has old Falwell left behind a worthless son, like Billy Graham's worthless son, Franklin, to take over his tax-free, big-buck-gathering ministry? And who's gonna make sure Liberty University (oh yeah, 13th grade's more like it) doesn't go DEVIL on us, you know, sell out to televized sports and big buck corporate research on monkeys, dogs, cats, and who knows, maybe some humans--or will the hog-calling preachin' continue down there in the hills of old Virginny--appropriately in a town called Lynchburg. "We lynch 'em for Jesus down heah," Jerry was once heard mumbling as he stuffed a whole jarred hare down his gullet in one smooth move.

So there's jumpin' and jivin' in heaven tonight. Big Blubber has arrived. He'll look good in Jesus's Private Evangelists Zoo up there in heaven. "Can I breed Jerry Falwell and Aimee Simple-as-Hell McPherson, Daddy--can I? Come on, man, let me do my experiments, me and Doc Mengele"--yeah, Dad forgave the Doc--afterall, Dad said, Doc really loved those Jews he experimented on--a perverted kind of love, but, hell, that's what we encourage up here--except Dad gets first crack at all the little virgin Jewish babes who mosey into heaven--from our pals the Jews for Jesus down on earth. Let's party with Jerry!!"

Oh there's such wailing and gnashing of teeth tonight down in Lynchburg at the Jerry "Pig-Jowls" Falwell Going Home Dinner and All Night Feed Fest--Coon Burgoo served at midnight!!"

Praise the Lard and damn make sure you pass me those biscuits down here, y'all heah now!

thegrowlingwolf
for The Daily Growler