Years ago, Las Vegas tourism officials contacted me to ask how to get more Christians to visit. "It is simple," I said, "give them secret places to gamble, drink, and fornicate."

And so they did.

The big casinos all now have many secret Christian parlors to allow believers to indulge in gambling, drink, and whoredoms galore, children excepted unless one is Catholic clergy.

Each denomination has its own parlor so that, say, the Catholics and the Baptists are not forced to mingle. Gambling next to a Catholic would be unholy indeed, especially knowing that their worship of Mary includes the perverse use of feminine hygiene products, a description of which worship practices I will not detail in this missive.

Gambling and Christianity go way back to the time when our Lord sanctioned gambling by allowing the soldiers to cast lots for his vestments. If we look at this episode by using the Bible Code, Jesus actually said, "When you gamble, gamble with a cheerful heart as unto God." This logic is inherent in the verse which says, "God loves a cheerful giver." The Greek word "giver" is correctly rendered "gambler" but Catholic translators in the past were under instruction not to disclose this truth as papal officials were the bookmakers of the day and wanted the betting line to always favor the Church.

Living here in Elco, Nevada, as I do, some evenings find me hosting visiting Christian dignitaries in the ultra-secret Christian gambling salons of Las Vegas. I myself, for example, have gambled tithes and love offerings many times with Bill Bennet. We make bets with each other on almost anything. In fact, just the other day before the liberal media blew Bill's little godly past time all out of proportion, Bill called me up and said, "Hey Loop! Ten thousand says Scott killed Laci."

I laughed out loud. "Bill, that is a sucker's bet. Everyone knows he did it. However, I'll lay down ten thousand on the fact that Scott Peterson will pull a Ramsey and walk."

"Hmmm," Bill replied, "You must have the inside scoop if you're willing to be that he can pull a Ramsey."

"Maybe, maybe not," said I. "So how about it? Ten thou?"

Bill thought for a moment and said, "Ten it is and let's make a five thousand dollar side bet that Laci's baby isn't Scott Peterson's"

"The heck you say!" I scoffed, "You must have been talking to Aschroft if you have the dope to make a bet like that, you devil you!" I swear, Billy Bennet cracks me up sometimes. Once he aped like he was OJ killing Nicole and it was hysterical. Of course, it was ethical humor because Bennet is ethical and virtuous. This just proves that Christians can have fun and be virtuous too!

Anyway, Bill and I have both gambled and drank in the finest Baptist-Only gaming rooms of the best casinos in Vegas. He likes the slots and I like poker. One night, I took Billy Graham and Bob Larson for twenty thousand and fifty thousand respectively in seven card stud. Larson ran out of money and wanted to stay in, so I said he could stay in only if he were willing to bet all of his clothes -- his vestments if you will.

He took the bet and threw down two pairs at the end of the hand. I laid down three Jacks and made the little exorcist strip bare ass naked right there at the table. The whole room laughed itself silly at the sight. Oral Roberts walked over and said, "Look at at that little shrimp penis on you, Brother Larson! I would help you, but the Holy Spirit only lets me grow legs!" The room just busted a gut as Bob stood there red as a beet. It was not like he could run away because there is only one door and it was locked.

He begged me to give him his clothes back. I did, but first I made him sit on the roulette wheel. I gave that sucker a big spin. We all chuckled watching that little begging monkey Larson spin around on the wheel. He was lit too, let me tell you. Probably had a fifth of Jack Daniels in him. Anyway, he got dizzy real fast and just hurled, and I mean projectical vomited as he was spinning round. Yeeech! Little demons must have come out of his innards because the place was covered in bloody red puke. It wasn't until later we learned that he was bleeding internally because some big angry teenager he was trying to exorcise had shoved a Sky Wars action figure up his ass and it had perforated his stomach! No wonder Bob had been walking wobbly when he wondered into the room that night! Well, it just goes to show that the urge to gamble is stronger in some men than the urge to go to the ER.

I finally let Bob put back on his clothes and we all left while they hosed down the room.

Look, a lot of Christians like to gamble, except on one thing, and that is our salvation. We will never gamble that Jesus is not Lord and that is why we have accepted him into our hearts. And we urge the world not to gamble with their eternal salvation. It's one thing for Bill Bennet to lose a few million dollars in a Vegas casino, but it's quite another for someone to lose their eternal soul as they roll snake eyes in Satan's pleasure palace called the world. Shit howdy, son, Billy Bennet can always write more books to make up for the eight million he lost, but you can never recoup your soul when you lose it to Satan.

So don't take Satan's bet that this whole "Christian thing" is a for sissies and dames! Lay down your soul on Jesus, for he is a sure winner in God's Big Casino!

____

A confused young man named Eric replies:

Date Posted: 11:42:29 05/06/03 Tue
Author: Eric
Subject: Christianity is certainly not for sissies
In reply to: Reverend E. Dwayne Looper 's message, "Looper Ministries Int'l Position on Bill Bennet and Christian Gaming" on 19:43:04 05/05/03 Mon

I agree with E. Dewayne about the non-sissiness of Christinity. It just so happens that I was saved at a Promise Keepers rally this Friday last. I watched as a well-muscled man assembled two heavy pieces of timber into a cross. He even had to axe part of the log to make them fit together. All the while, he gasped for air through a sermon on the masculinity of Christ. Later we were treated to a film showing other Promise Keepers who did such masculine things as bullriding and piloting the space shuttle. The speakers stopped short of saying that promise keepers had the biggest penises but not by much.

When the speaker made the alter call I started thinking about my life as a whole. I don't know if it was the touching music of the 9 piece band playing background music, the message delivered by the speaker, or the vodka laden chiltons that my friend and I had imbibed just prior to arriving at the rally. I guess in the end it doesn't matter. When I saw the speaker giving hugs to people who went up front to be saved I decided that I had to go also. Indeed, I wanted that hug. I rushed to the stage only to find it beset by other men seeking forgiveness from Christ. By the time I reach the front of the crowd the speaker had made a tactical retreat to the stage where he could not be embraced by the now hundreds seeking hot male on male spiritual action. I ended up being saved for nothing. I never got my hug.

On the way home I started having second thoughts. I went to sleep, awash in alcohol induced confusion and spiritual crisis. When I awoke I felt dirty. I took a shower, washing away the blood of Christ, which actually becomes quite itchy when it dries on your skin. My relationship with Christ turned out to be a one night stand. Christ promised to call me but I haven't heard from him yet. I'm not sure if I should tell my wife about my little triste with Jesus. God, I don't even know how I would tell her even if I decided to. For now, I must contend with the guilt associated with one night of religious passion in an otherwise honest life marked by atheistic rectitude.
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A Catholic Priest adds commentary:

Date Posted: 07:50:53 05/07/03 Wed
Author: Father Long
Subject: Let's Take the Hard Road
In reply to: Eric 's message, "Christianity is certainly not for sissies" on 11:42:29 05/06/03 Tue

Jesus says, "If you get on your knees, I'll get on my hands." And so the road to salvation is hard, sometimes even bloody. I too have carried the load of another brother or two or three at these Promise Keeper rallies, this although I am a Catholic priest. Since the boy thing, however, men stay away from me and so I leave my collar at home. I have been saved 24 dozen times at Promise Keeper events. The staff doesn't seem to mind and I know many of them, especially the muscular young man with the ax. His brute strength can lay down a pole fast, and his firm hand is the hand of God extended.

Your wife, Brother Eric? Why worry? What is a wife except a bain to a man who belongs amongst brothers. Turn her over to the charity of the church and forsake all to join us, unless of course you are fat, older, and not buff, in which case stay home and breed.