RE: Looking For Another Christian (please ignore if you are not a believer.
July 28, 2014 at 3:45 pm
(This post was last modified: July 28, 2014 at 3:46 pm by Lemonvariable72.)
(July 28, 2014 at 3:43 pm)Drich Wrote:(July 28, 2014 at 11:57 am)Jacob(smooth) Wrote: Really?
I mean fucking REALLY?
You believe that you asked God, and he took note of your prayer and nudged the flow of reality so that you'd have a playmate?
What a shame. If you have that kind of relationship with God, where you ask and he provides, what a shame you didn't ask him for an end to the war in gaza.
Sorry kids. Rev's God, who provides, has not decided to grant that particular prayer. But hey, listen, let rev tell you how good his God is for providing him a second Christian to help with an online debate. That he WILL provide. Impressive huh?
If God provided for that prayer, but not for your prayers for those kids, he's a cunt. If you didn't make any, believing as you do that you have a hotline to an omnipotent god, then you're a cunt.
Well, you will be pleased to know that is what Hell is for. To separate yourself from all in whom you believe to be a "cunt." After all how can you spend an eternity in service of a deity who doesn't make every life like a living dream.
Except that everyone that believes in jesus goes to heaven regardless of their actions. A heaven full of pedo priests, sounds like good incentive to die old.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.