These darn things turn up and scurry off all the time in my neighborhood. A church group originates, heavens knows where or how, but, like bee husbandry, the group makes a hive in a store front down the street near where I live. Glory be. Can 't say I'm a joiner, but visiting any church at all is better than staying home and watching reruns of Route 66.
Few of these ministries conduct services more than a few months before flying off to either a free standing rental church or holy gentrified warehouse subdivision. The innovation with which people worship blows upward in the distance like Moby Dick's head bilge. Affirmations. Thank you. I attended many services provided by a snake handling sect, and would like to take the opportunity to report the effect that religious practice had on my future. I'm presuming it was improved, allowing that I don't handle poisonous snakes. Watching extended families dance to loud rock and roll, scream, chant, roll their eyes back, all the while each jack and jill holding their choice of rattlers, cotton mouths, black mambos, cobras and even some rare snakes from far away hell holes, I'm glad I hung out there. Free doughnuts! Don't know who does their hair care, but it was always phenomenal. Ever notice how there are a lot of hair care experts in correctional facilities?
Propriety is paramount in a snake handling church. I was dressed for it, in a leather trench coat, Irwin Rommel hat, and neoprene fireman's boots. The church band was blasting Chuck Berry's raucous tune 'Maybelline.' I couldn't help dancing. A room full of maniacs in a collectivized frenzy is doggone fun. Nothing to worry about. People get bit all the time, and they just flop on the floor and scream till they get better. They believe in healing from on high, and so far, there's been no fatalities. It's another doggone lovely church group right near my domicile. Affirmations.
Few of these ministries conduct services more than a few months before flying off to either a free standing rental church or holy gentrified warehouse subdivision. The innovation with which people worship blows upward in the distance like Moby Dick's head bilge. Affirmations. Thank you. I attended many services provided by a snake handling sect, and would like to take the opportunity to report the effect that religious practice had on my future. I'm presuming it was improved, allowing that I don't handle poisonous snakes. Watching extended families dance to loud rock and roll, scream, chant, roll their eyes back, all the while each jack and jill holding their choice of rattlers, cotton mouths, black mambos, cobras and even some rare snakes from far away hell holes, I'm glad I hung out there. Free doughnuts! Don't know who does their hair care, but it was always phenomenal. Ever notice how there are a lot of hair care experts in correctional facilities?
Propriety is paramount in a snake handling church. I was dressed for it, in a leather trench coat, Irwin Rommel hat, and neoprene fireman's boots. The church band was blasting Chuck Berry's raucous tune 'Maybelline.' I couldn't help dancing. A room full of maniacs in a collectivized frenzy is doggone fun. Nothing to worry about. People get bit all the time, and they just flop on the floor and scream till they get better. They believe in healing from on high, and so far, there's been no fatalities. It's another doggone lovely church group right near my domicile. Affirmations.
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