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Reverend Jimmy Pup Speaks: Most Important Space Venture Since Time Began

Paul Lojeski: Hell, my foul-smelling and traitorous Aid De Camp, Jaspar the Talking Cocker Spaniel also pitched in, so I could again lead the congregation in Praise and Song of All Things Pup and the Great Saint Bernard Above.

Friends and Phony Followers who refuse to pay dues (Leaders of the Cheapskates’ Brigade) I, The Reverend Jimmy Pup, Supreme Mental Presence west of Toledo, Ohio, announce the Most Important Space Venture since Time began, which, as you already know, Pathetic Apostates, began the day of My Birth and not a minute sooner no matter what those Heathen Scientists Bleat out into the Cold, Secular Nights. Heed not the ranting of Rational Thought, Common Sense or Pleasant Discourse. Stay the course with Animals, Birds, Fish, the Great Saint Bernard Above and Me and you’ll be Good to Go. What?

retort to nothing

Let us read from the Book of Rudolph (available at all Turkish Baths and Chinese takeouts): Chapter 12, Verse 44, Line 71: “For the first Robin squawked like a Crow on the Fourth Day of the Tenth Month and all Squirrels left for the Coast.”

What do I mean? What am I talking about?

Just this, Buzzards of Disbelief, Cowards of Conscience: this Ministry, the One and True Ministry of all Ministries has suffered Grave Indignities and Vicious Attacks, including Vile Military Assaults upon My Sacred Mega-Church in Scottsdale, Arizona. Perhaps, you read about it, Defilers of Faith, or saw it on one of your Evil Devices that mortars and missiles did rain down upon my Humble Abode and fires did burn for Three Days and Four Nights but none would quit the Glorious Struggle to Save the Church of Pup. Even Milking Cows and Mighty Moose helped stay the flames.

Hell, my foul-smelling and traitorous Aid De Camp, Jaspar the Talking Cocker Spaniel also pitched in, so I could again lead the congregation in Praise and Song of All Things Pup and the Great Saint Bernard Above.

And which Deranged Culprits sprung the Surprise Attack upon Such an Innocent as Myself? None other than the Reverend James ‘Jimmy’ Jacobson, Leader of the First Anti-Animal and Pet Congregation of Mesa, Arizona! I include, as well, amongst the opposing Murderous Forces, all local, state and federal agencies, especially the Kindergarten Fighting Forces of Gilbert, Arizona, the Most Merciless Enemies of all Enemies I could have garnered.

In any event, immediately after their Dastardly Violence I figured and ciphered for two fortnights as to the Path of Light best suited for the Chosen to Follow. What with enemies behind every Bush and Branch, escape was paramount upon my Fragile Mind, and that is when MY GENIUS EXPLODED once more in a Fireball of Insanity and Nonsensical Meanderings. Lightning Bolts of Revelation and Profound Instability seared my Delicate Flesh but I Wavered Not! I was determined to walk in Circles until Confusion Confused everyone concerned, including, most notably, Myself.

Let us read from the Book of Rudolph (available at local Paint Brush Stores and all Mobbed Up Butcher Shops): Chapter 99, Verse 44, Line of Lines: “When darkness is the only light to see by, bemoan nothing except everything about you.”

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What do I mean? What am I talking about?

Just this: In order, then, to Fleece My Foes of all power and Sap their Strength and Fortitude, I decided, in short, My Hardy Flock, to relocate with Righteous Resolution to another planet in another galaxy and, thus, the Reverend Jimmy Pup Space Program I told you about in the beginning of this Idiotic Monologue was launched with Full Vigor and Vigorous Sensuality. .

But to succeed, to go where no Squid, Dalmatian or Blue Jay has ever gone, I need Cash, Green, Loot, Major Scratch and on and on. I mean Rockets and Custom Made Space Suits of varying sizes and shapes don’t come cheap. (Imagine, if you can, my Ignorant and Flatulent Followers, the skill required to fashion a Space Costume for a Dolphin, an Earthworm, or a Pigeon, to name but a few needed. I mean, how do you make an Astronaut Helmet for a Trout?) You get the idea, Pathetic Dolts who refuse to Pay Me what I’m Due and Deserve by the Sheer Weight of My Madness and Insipid Bravado.

And so, to undertake this mass exodus of Myself, the Holy of Holies, and the Beasts of Yonder Climes utilizing fleets of Gleaming, Silver Ships to carry us Up Up and Away, I shall instigate a series of Epic Fundraisers that won’t end until every shekel needed is yanked from each and every pocket of Misguided Non-Believers, Base and Lazy Malingerers, as well as Unemployed Nurses, Frycooks and Washed-Up Sitcom Stars hanging out in the Hamptons!

All of these Grand Events will be Televised between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m. worldwide, with such stars and luminaries as the Inventor of the Tire and the builder of the first Potato Peeler. On the other hand, movie stars like Tom Cruise and Brad Pit will not be attending because I couldn’t meet their outrageous Appearance Fees, so I Cast Them Out of the Pup Community and the Glory of Pet and Animal Space Travel. I will not lay Healing hands on the dogs and cats of such Vile Vipers of Fame. What?

Let us read from the Book of Rudolph (available at Old-Fashioned Barber Shops and all Professional Wrestlers Supply Wholesalers open only on Sundays): Chapter 11, Verse 89, Line12: For whosoever drinks bad whiskey before dawn and shaves with a dull razor shall be freed of all doubts and curses and cling forsooth to my heaving breast and pounding heart.”

What am I talking about? What do I mean?

Paul Lojeski