The Fourth Crown’s guest writer God reviews Friday night’s big concert featuring Timeflies and Mike Stud. In addition to sending his only begotten son, our Lord, God has received a high degree of praise for his role in creating the Universe.
THE KINGDOM OF GOD- Behold, it’s Me. The Lord, thy God. Creator of Heaven & Earth, of all that is seen and is unseen, and apparently, that douchebag Mike Stud. Friday night, I was disturbed from My eternal throne by a rukkus the likes of which I haven’t heard since the Moabites, Ammonites, and Amalekites tried to get after it with the Israelites back before I had My first kid (check out Judges 3:12 for more). Not much stirs Me these days, but when Thomas Aquinas came to My loft apartment Friday night in tears complaining about being bullied by college kids again, I figured I had to bring My countenance down upon somebody or something. After calming Tommy down, I threw on My billowing golden cloak and descended to the realm of My Children for the first time since I came down to invent the McGriddle (one of My greatest works to date).
Walking into Lund, I was at first pleased to see My children working back towards My original idea of having y’all live your lives in the nude (before Eve got all modest and shit). However, I quickly realized My daughters weren’t wearing bandeaus and denim short shorts to live a life of Godly purity.
When I sparked that whole Reformation thing, I did so because I was sick of indulgences and pluralism, not because I wanted some (admittedly hot as hell) 26-year-old Jewish guy to lead a bunch of Lutherans in rhythmically insulting My favorite 13th century theologian. And When I got Eric Norelius to start up a campus here in frigid San Pedro, I didn’t do so to enable drunk guys from MSU to dry-hump ELCA-baptised Gusties to the generic rap of some tank topped tool.
I guess what I’m here to say is that for a college of My church, you all have a bit of cleaning up to do. Seriously, there were five ambulances called to campus before 10:30. You think I breathed life into you so you could jettison it right back out with the help of a liter of Ron Diaz?
Look, you Lutherans have figured out so much of My (admittedly vague) will. You get that all that anti-gay stuff in My first book was referring to one or two guys from My hometown, not every person in human history who has wanted to get with someone with the same general organ structure. You ordain women into the priesthood. You make some unbelievable hot dish. But it’s hard for Me to resist the temptation to bring the brimstone when you keep getting trashed and screaming the FST chant. Yeah, St. Thomas University sucks. I get it. The only difference between STU and Gomorrah is rich parents and a few thousand pairs of UGG boots. Nonetheless, you’ve gotta chill with the chants.
I’ll just wrap it up with a reminder of the last time I got salty with you all back in ’98. I whisked together that furious cyclone to come and thrash up the place in response to two students completing the three crowns challenge. I invite you to think about what I might do if I keep hearing Mike Stud lyrics like this drifting up from downstairs:
“Being fake up in these songs,
That was never the deal
So fuck that
Motherfucker fuck that.”
Categories: LIFE & STYLE