My prayer to Jeebus

I'm writing this on Saturday night. Soon I shall be waking up and packing the car for the eight hour drive back home. Before I go to sleep, here is the prayer I will offer up:

Dear Jeebus,

In the spirit of your holy birthday, we made this journey to a primitive land to share happiness and gifts. And lo, I have been stricken with an illness that causes liquid fire from hell itself to spill forth from the very depths of my bowels.

Lord, I have prostrated myself on the throne of porcelain at each bell's toll and I have prayed and lamented loudly as my sins poured through my sore anus.

As we embark on our arduous journey, please watch over us and please divert all police officials to obstruct the paths of real sinners and Mormons and Jews.

And, glory to you on highest, please use your holy superpowers to temporarily close my posterior orifice, thus preventing the continuous anal flow of sin and hellfire until we have reached our destination.

In your name, forever and ever, unless you force me to have to pull over to shit at a gas station or restaurant, in which case I'm going to give this whole Satan thing a shot.

Aaaaaaa-men.

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