Prophet In A Raspberry Beret

Once before on this site, I directed my rage at Jehovah’s Witnesses. The reasons for my anger were threefold:

  1. They cruise my town home complex with complete lack of respect for the no-solicitation ordinance.
  2. They ring my doorbell early on Saturday mornings.
  3. They bring their Jesus shit to my front door, inches away from where I eat, fuck, sleep and shit.

While the methods of Jehovah’s Witnesses piss me off, I still love me some Prince. If he appeared on my doorstep, I would invite his little ass inside and tell him to hurry up with the Son of God rap and ask him to sing Purple Rain for me and my sort of lady.

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