The material was extracted from The Bible, and is copyright 1998, 1999 Mr. Long. No material from this page may be used in any devious way without the creator's consent. However, feel free to print out, copy and distribute this material freely. Thank you.
Good day to you all. My name is Mr. Long, and this is my what? Bible. In this bible, I will tell you the story of my what? Life, and tell you how YOU can worship Mr. what? Long, in your everyday life. Yes, my friends, it's easy to accept Mr. Long as your Lord and Master, and give me all your what? Money, and food. It's a small price to pay for eternal what? Happiness.
Now, some people may be skeptical as to my ability to be God, but when you think about it, Mr. Long is the only logical what? Choice. Now many people of this world worship Jesus, and he was not ever known to eat any lard. Is that who you want to worship? Well, if not, join me, Mr. what? Long, as we will seek the truth and worship me, Mr. What? Long!
Now, I was born on December 25 of the year AD 1938. Some call this day Christmas, but we will come to call it what? Mr. Longmas! Now, from the time I was a baby, there was nothing that I loved more than a what? Great big bottle full of lard. Now, the day I was born was a very momentous occasion. Everyone in my family was celebrating Christmas, thereby interfering with the celebration of the day of my birth. But I was to get back at them. I was to get back at them all.
Now, I grew up in St. Louis, Missouri. Here, it was not very acceptable for a young boy to kill his parents, and brothers and sisters. But just as that jive-turkey Bob Dylan once said, "The times they are a-changing." Now, my parents were good what? People, and I wasn't sure at first if I really wanted to kill them. But by the time I had reached age 5, I had seen how all the other little boys and girls' birthdays were celebrated by their parents. Not mine, everyone was busy talking about what? Jesus and how great he is. So on Thanksgiving of 1944, I celebrated Turkey Day the best way I knew how. By carving those jive turkeys and boiling their bones. It was quite a Thanksgiving dinner that night, I got my first taste of what? Human meat. Now, my parents were very what? Large, and there was a lot of lard on their bones. Although I had eaten animal lard since I was but a baby, this experience made me into the man I am today, one who loves eating human what? Lard!
Now, as I said before, these were crazy times in Missouri, and it was frowned upon for a boy to kill his family. Therefore, I was sentenced to two months in the Juvenile Detention what? Center. These were tough times for me. I was in with a bunch of shoplifters and beggars. A 5-year old boy who was in for killing his parents was considered a bit of a what? Sissy. But I was to show them all. Every last one of them. That year, I spent my birthday at the St. Louis Juvenile Detention Center. It wasn't so bad, I was given special treatment, the guards allowed me to eat a young child who had recently been sentenced to death. That joker was deep fried, and tasted great with a little bit of what? Pepper.
Now, when I got out, February was on its way. Snow was still on the ground, and I was now 6 years old and out on my own in this crazy world. I decided I would go back to the Public Schools of Missouri. There, I learned such valuable lessons such as writing in cursive. Today, I can write a perfect U in cursive, teach U.S. History, and coach World Class Cross Country and Track teams. Now, my childhood was considered by many to be what? Hilarious. One tit'ne, for example, I got my head stuck in a bucket of lard. I had to go to the emergency room and wait for hours with crazy jokers with needles stuck in their eyes and knives through their hearts. The doctor asked me, he said, "Mr Long, how did you manage this one?" We laughed and laughed, and eventually, the doctor managed to break the bucket and release my what? Head. tte was a crazy doctor, but he gave me free lard later in my life when I came to the hospital with heart problems. Although it had not yet been proven at the time, he knew how good lard was for the human heart. He was my favorite doctor.
Now, my schooling was tough. I went to school and saw all the other boys and girls in the lunchroom with sandwiches. Turkey sandwiches, ham sandwiches, they had them all. But I didn't like sandwiches. I tried and I tried, but sandwiches could never fill me up. So every day to school I would bring large quantities of lard. I would eat lard all day. While the other children were learning about United States History and Cross Country, subjects at which I already excelled, I would sit in the back of the room by myself, eating lard and laughing at the slower children, struggling to learn about William Tecumseh Sherman and Thomas what? Jefferson. I remember one little boy in particular who had a hard time reading from the book. "Ha ha ha," I would laugh at this stupid young boy. I recently saw this joker eating at a restaurant. "You jive-turkey," I said to him, "have you learned to read yet?" Apparently, he had.
Now, as I entered high school, I was ready to explore a whole new land of opportunity. I took such courses as Lard Preparation I, Eating Human Lard, US History 1, and Lard Preparation II. Those were great times. Eating Human Lard was my favorite class. We learned about the Donner Party, who went up into the mountains and ate each other. This story was to inspire me profoundly. Six years later, I took a group of my friends up into the what? Mountains. About three of those turkeys made it back on that trip.
Now, the year was 1952. 1 was a freshman in high school, and I began to notice I was different from the rest of the boys and girls. They were skinny as poles! Why, the heaviest of them weighed in at 300 pounds. I was a healthy 643, but the boys and girls would still make fun of me. I decided I needed to find a new way to express myself artistically. I started going down to the local pool hall on Wednesday nights, trying to find some new what? friends. I met an older boy there, he was 26 years old. He told me he played guitar, and that his name was Chuck. I told him I was interested in starting a band, and wondered if he wanted to join. But Chuck just laughed at me. He called me a big stupid lardass and pushed me over. I struggled and struggled to get back up, but I just couldn't what? Make it. I was reelin' and rockin' , rockin' and rollin', trying to get back onto my feet, but I just couldn't make it! Now, that jive-turkey Chuck thought I was a pretty funny guy at this point. He kept laughing at me, and then he kicked me a few times. A few hours later, I managed to get back up again. At that point, Chuck and I had become good friends, and he agreed to join my band.
Now, the next week, Chuck and I got together to start our band. We decided that the first thing we needed was a name. He suggested the name 'Chuck Berry and the Big Fat Crazy Guy'. Now, I didn't think this was a very good name, and we both decided to what? Drop it. I suggested to him that we would call ourselves 'Mr. Long and the Mr. Longs'. Now, Chuck was a tricky fellow, he thought his name should be in the band name somewhere. So, eventually, we agreed on the name 'Mr. Long and the Lardberrys.' Now, our next step was to find a couple other jokers to join our band. We decided that I would be the lead singer, and Chuck would play the guitar. Now, the next night, we went back down to the pool hall to find some turkeys to play in our band.
Now, the two fellows we found went by the name of Chris and Chris. They were nice boys, but not quite right in the head. They were always running off in the middle of practices, giggling and punching each other in the face. Now, eventually old Chuck and me decided we needed to what? Tie these turkeys up.
Now, with Chris and Chris properly subdued, we needed to decide what kind of band we should start. I suggested we play music similar to the blues, only more up-tempo and what? Rowdy. At this point, Chuck called me a crazy bastard and pushed me over again. As I struggled to get back onto my two feet, Chuck said to me, "I believe you have a good idea, Mr. Long." As he watched me swinging my body back and forth, he said, "We could call this music rock and roll."
Now, eventually, I got back on my two feet and we got back to business. Chris and Chris started banging on things and screaming, just as they had done before they joined the band. Chuck played the guitar and I sang and played the what? Kazoo. Occasionally, I would scream into the microphone, then jump onto Chuck's back. He would usually fall down, due to our weight differences. I would laugh and laugh as he tried to get the words out for Chris and Chris to call an ambulance. Sometimes old Chuck would be in bed for weeks after I jumped on him. I remember him hollering out, "My spine! My spine! Chris, Chris, call an ambulance!" But Chris and Chris were a couple of idiots. They didn't know how to operate a telephone, let alone talk properly. Those crazy jive-turkeys.
Now, our first gig was down at the St. Louis Boys and Girls Club. Those boys and girls were what? Crazy bastards. I jumped into the crowd and 8 of them didn't make it out alive. Fortunately for us, we all survived this ordeal. The police came in at one point and tried to arrest us for murdering people in the audience. Us not wanting to go to jail, we ran like hell!
Now, we encountered troubles like that for the next 2 years, until the time when we finally went our separate ways. The important thing is that nobody was hurt during these times, except of course for Chris and Chris, who were brutally beaten to death by rabid policemen on December 7, 1953. It was a sad thing about old Chris and Chris, but at the same time, I found it quite what? Hilarious.
Now, as for me, I still had to finish up high school. The next 2 years were crazy times for me. I was always running through the halls screaming and knocking people over. I pretended to be Superman some days, I would put on a cape and a suit with a big S on the front, run down the halls, scream, and knock people over. None of the other boys and girls made fun of me anymore after that. Why, most of those jokers were in the what? Hospital.
Proceed to Chapter 2. Send all comments here. Thank you.