Dearest Harold (the Hoarder),
Thank you for your message. I read it with compassion, but a pain in my heart. Compassion we need not dwell upon, mere sentimental and useless BS. But of pain must I speak, being a person of the cloth, your humble servant, bringing you ideas and words you, sadly, cast into the wasteland from which your materialism grows. My faith in your salvation continues, and so . . .
I recall you once threw a dildoe away. Blessings, my son, for therein is an evil material thing. Why, with dildoes, what woman has use of a man and his member? Is it not better to cast the thing from you and use your own, Gypsy-given tool to satisfy yourself and your woman? Besides, dildoes need batteries to work and they wear out and you have to buy more. With a dildoe you now have more things to worry about. You performed a good deed by casting that "thilthy"* thing aside.
I recall you once hoarded an empty box. Is it not so? Cast it also away. It is the occasion for sin, for you might put something in it and then where will you be? A man with a box now filled--you have two material things whereas before you had one. See how this error in your ways multiplies? And what if you put more than one thing in the box? You will forget all of what you have in there before nature takes your memory away from you naturally. What a tragedy! We need no stinking boxes.**
Does not the scripture say that to enter the kingdom of heaven you must pass through the eye of a needle? It indeed does. In the Holy Book of Gypsy it says that the damned will swim in their belongings on the lowest level of hell, for there is where all human waste and material objects sink and mire those who would not forsake and let go their grubby little hands that which they could not part.
Ah, pain in my heart. Save thy self before it is too late. You don't wish after you part to be thrown into that infinite storage unit below with all that crap and all the crap that other hoarders and materialists have accumulated. Think of it. All that plastic and refuse and tools you can't use in the afterlife. You will be unable to grasp any of it with your immaterial hands. You will still, however, get a monthly bill for storage. Material hell is not a fair nor pleasant place.
Ponder and continue to pay until you are forced to yell, "Uncle!" or, "Pastor, help me. Help me. I'm drowning. I'm drowning."***
So ends this message from Word-of-the-Day Salvation and Redemption services, a non-profit church for the overly burdened souls of color on this earth. You being a whitie of some pinkish color, not politically of course.
I.M. Free
PS Where did you throw that dildoe? Is there any way of recovering that and having a quick sniff?****
___
* _Filthy_ pronounced thus for shock/amusement's sake.
** An allusion to a line from a movie, which was never, trivia buffs beware, phrased in this way in the original.
*** A reference to Harold' youth when he and a buddy rowed out a ways in the lake and called to the shore, thus bringing the Coast Guard and the county sheriff to the rescue.
**** Property of Diane Messchaert about whom another post will tell all sordid details.
