What's Next?

I have always been a tolerant sort, well, maybe...uh...sort of, when it came to one's own particular brand of religion...well...maybe...sort of...My personal belief is what is between a man and his Supreme Deity is none of my business.
I for one do not subscribe to the policy of cramming any particular brand of religion down some one's throat. Ever!...However, in the early am news this am was an article about how a self styled leader of a religious organization was busted and tossed into the hoosegow for handling and indulging in the sale of venomous snakes.
THAT is something to make you go Hmmmmmmmmmmmm!
Let's examine this, shall we...
This overgrown, pompous, maniacally moronic individual handles snakes in a religious rite? OOOOOOOOOOOKay! Un huh! Makes sense to me, if you want to tempt the Higher Power into swatting you down like a fly on the wall...NOT only does he handle the snakes, he sells them too...OK, I can see someone wanting to make an extra buck, I don't have a quarrel with THAT...but highly venomous snakes? Either this dude was:
A. Dropped on his head at birth...on purpose no less
B. He misunderstood that still small voice in his head
C. He does hear voices in his head and they tell him to do bad things
D. Or he's just plain rabbit ass crazy
Now then you may ask me, "MoonRabbit why do you say he's pompous?"
Because you idiot, if he wasn't a pompous fool, he wouldn't be thinking that he was invulnerable to a snake bite!
Now then you may also ask me, "MoonRabbit, why do you say he must have been dropped on his head at birth?"
Because, you idiot, he definitely has brain damage because he has allowed himself to be led along by the nose under the tutelage of who the hell ever to get him to this point in his otherwise miserable existence.
Look, I dated a girl from Compton, California when I was in the service of the United States Marine Corps, that dating lasted all of five days, she invited me to church with her, I went along, because the only thing I REALLY WAS interested in was trying to get into her pants and any other place I could insert my organ, hell, I was 18 THEN so I was one overlarge hormone walking around in a man suit, you get the picture? Long story short, we walked through those 'church' doors and I'm telling you, there was an immediate palpable change in her. She got this glittery eyed look and this strange smile began to spread across her lovely features, we sat in a pew and we talked very quietly when I posed the query to her and inquired as to what was under the sheet up there on that table. She turned that beautifully serene smile on me and I... got... scared!
Snakes was her answer. I wanted to bolt, but held my ground like any good Marine, but...I had this vision inside of my head of them being loosed and allowed to roam freely in the building and I was already calculating the odds of how many steps it would take to the door or a window. The service began and I sort of relaxed because it was fairly informal and low key, but the next thing I knew, the sheet covering that container was snatched off and I was looking into an aquarium that held copperheads and rattlers. The preacher reached his hand in and got one, Hmmm. NOT bad for a pasty faced, pimpled, soft handed guy I was thinking!, Then he started waving it around... like it was a flag! I know for a fact that rattlesnakes do NOT grow up and have the goal of being waved around...no sir, all they want to do is eat rats and make little rattlers, and stay the hell away from folks that take the silly cockeyed notion inside of their heads that they WANT to be waved around like flags.
My best recollection of that event is that after the sky pilot grabbed one then the whole damn bunch of them ran up and snatched a snake outta that aquarium, even that sweet faced, serene little lady that I had accompanied. The dumb bitch brought ME a SNAKE, she had one in each hand! I really, really tried to politely refuse, but she was so far gone in her religious fervor that she ignored my polite refusals, so... I clocked her...right between the eyes! How I made it to the parking lot, I really don't remember, but you can damn sure believe that I was searchng the ground around me for any escapees!
So, to Colonel Bob Milligan of the Kentucky Wildlife Resources I can only say "Way to go Bob!"
Oh yeah, one more thing, Hey Bob, you skin a copperhead, a rattler or a cobra, they make fine belts, but...you probably already KNOW THAY!
Gentle Reader, venomous snakes are NOT pets, all warm and fuzzy, you try to pet one, I can give you a money back guarantee you'll draw back a snake bit hand and you're well on you're way to DYING!
"Nuff said there!