Louisiana Epic
Eight humble Tachmonites from the Westboro Baptist Church went to Thibodaux,
Louisiana from April 16-18, 2005. Shirl, Lizz, Kay, Steve, Ben, Jael, Bekah, and Noah
had seven awesome pickets: six sodomite *****houses masquerading as churches, and
Nicholls State University.
Our first picket was outside of First Presbyterian Church. It was small and there
wasn’t much traffic, which made it a perfect podium to preach some gospel truth to
desperately deprived dingbats. There were three hail-fellow-well-met greeters who heard
way more than they wanted to hear from these saucy Tishbites. Ten minutes after we
arrived, an effeminate Catholic with a “Stop Hatred” t-shirt, kneeled down on the
sidewalk fifteen feet from us and started rotely praying to Mary. So, we broke out in “The
Pope, the Pope, the Pope is on fire—he don’t get no water let that heretic burn,” each of
us in turn corrected his misguided, hypocritical religious farce. Also, we had to give a
remedial course in Professionalism 101 to a state trooper for saying “it’s a good day to be
Catholic.”
At St. Luke’s dog kennel, we took turn chewing out the pervert-in-chief false
prophet for being part of the biggest pedophile machine this world has ever seen. We also
told him that he is going to Hell for lying to all of his parishioners and enabling them in
their sins, instead of fulfilling his most important duty of rebuking them in any wise.
Steve made it very clear to the church-goers: “Every time you put money in that plate,
you are supporting pedophile priests to butt-rape little boys!”
Next, at the sodomite *****house known as St. John’s Episcopal, the oldest one
in Louisiana, we came upon the Vicki-Gene-Robinson-in-training ********** adorned in
his dress and sash. Steve told him and his parishioners that, “Your bishop sloughed off
the wife of his youth, deserting his children, to shack up with a man and pack his fudge.
Then he gets up on T.V. and calls his fudge packing—which to the Lord is an abominable
sin—a holy sacrament; thus calling God a liar!” Shirl then added, “Henry VIII also
wanted to slough off his wife and marry another, but he got sick of cutting off their
heads. He decided he would just divorce her, but the Catholic Church (back then)
wouldn’t let him—so the pervert started his own church. Thus the Episcopal Church is
born—what a great way to start up a house of God, isn’t it?” That crowd of people was so
relieved when we left, it was comical.
The First United Methodist Church is located on an extremely busy street. When
we arrived, most people were already in the leper colony worshipping their great god,
Mr. Goober, but the few people that were walking inside were questioned closely by Ben:
“What about Esau, guys? What do you do with Esau? When was the last time your
preacher preached on Romans 9:13?” Since those lemmings were so Bible-ignorant and
have been lied to their whole lives, they didn’t have any answers, so they resorted to adhominem
attacks. And when they opened the doors to the place, Steve took the golden
opportunity to remind them “God hates fags. God hates ************* Therefore, God
hates the Methodist Church, its pastors, and it’s parishioners without exception, for
spouting the big lies that God loves everybody and it’s okay to be gay.” After that (the
only true Bible preaching that would be done in that church), they kept the doors shut.
St. Joseph’s Co-Cathedral has it all: lots of traffic, lots of parishioners, lots of
idols, and the largest steeple in the area. While we were singing hymns and preaching to
the pedophile enablers pouring into the co-cathedral, the sissy from picket #1 recruited
some co-hypocrites to pray to the dead pope and other important idols. But don’t worry,
those necrophiliacs cracked under the rebuking of all eight ambassadors of Jesus Christ
and resorted to cursing and flipping. A morbidly obese man, attempting to block Jael’s
sign, found a new best friend who ripped him a new one! Jael laced into him about the
corruptness of the Catholic Church and how he’s dumping coals on his head for
withstanding our words.
That evening, after a visit to Glen Island State Park and a jog/walk along the Gulf
of Mexico, we joyfully made our way to the University Baptist Church. Even though
University Baptist is a small church, it sat behind a gaping lawn filled with teenage
minions of Satan trying to catch Brother Steve in his words. It is a shame that their
parents let them grow up to be so Bible-ignorant. One of the brainless ninnies strutted
moodily up to Lizz and, with disgust, read one of her signs aloud: “Fags doom nations.”
To which Lizz countered “you must be a Nicholls State University student, because you
can read a two-syllable word!”
“I happen to be the eager beaver sodomite,” he announced proudly.
“Oh, it’s Eric with a ‘k’—jackass

“Oh, it’s Eric with a ‘k’—jackass with a ‘k’—and you’re late!” Lizz said, dashing
his spirits and causing him to slump off to the other side of the picket line. After this
encounter he was incessantly referred to as “Eric with a ‘k’!”
The next day thousands gathered to ignore us at Nicholls State University. Eric
with a ‘k’, yellow-shirt-guy (who followed us around the day before like an ugly dog),
and a boy dressed up as Dorothy were among those that greeted us with a contemptuous
uproar. We had a fenced-in-area in the center of the crowd, and six-year-old Noah was
the center of attention to his intellectual peers of students/faculty and staff. Noah asked to
hold “Pope in Hell” which boiled many people’s blood—stubborn necromancers. Even
though not a peep was heard when angry rimmers threw ice at us (they missed), a huge
cheer was heard from the mob, “two down six to go!” when Noah was momentarily
escorted to a restroom break. And again, we were inundated with applause when Noah
dropped his sign for a couple of seconds. Talk about grasping at straws—he’s a picketerin-
training! Then the students got religion…and began their idolatrous mantra of “Hail
Mary...” etc., to which Shirl replied by lifting up the Hail Mary with butt buddies sign. As
the thirty minute picket came to a rapid close, a “five minute departure” ensued wherein
some members reluctantly gave up their signs to continue the glee they were
experiencing by condemning the foolish, God-defying passel of undisciplined idolaters
(aka Nicholls State University Student body). As we were making our way toward our
cars, Shirl spotted the President and, to his horror, said “the quickest way to get some
kids to do something is to tell them not to do it. Thank you so kindly for telling them to
ignore us and for helping us spread our message!” As we were about to drive off, a few
reporters came running to do a quick interview. Among other questions, they asked Noah
what he thought of the picket: “I think…all fags are evil!” Thus ending our unforgettable
experiences in Thibodaux, Louisiana.
As recorded by your faithful scribes, Rebekah L. Phelps-Roper and Jael Phelps, with
input from Elizabeth Phelps.

Are you kidding, I thought that you gave this up, posting news articles and other things anyone can just go online and read. And you ruined facebook. You are not in a fraternity, you created 4 fake ones that only you belong to. If you fix it, I might still go on a date with you.

I'm looking for dating...

Jen I will fix it in 5 hours.

your wish have been fullfilled.