Presbyterian/Baptist War

Slamming Dr. White
Is too easy a task
When drinking in the night
Sipping on my flask

I laugh at him
I laugh at JD Hall
I laugh at Jeff Durbin
I laugh at them all

All the Baptist hipsters
And their sympathizers
Make me pull my whiskers
With super-heated plyers

Pulpit and Pen
Always has me rolling
Al Mohler and his men
Make me feel like scrolling

Then there's Russell Moore
Keen to build a mosque
Such a trouble-maker
Why do you have to ask?

Of Dr. White
I have a net positive opinion
His pastor isn't Dispy
His deacon ain't Arminian

But what makes me grind my teeth
And really greys my hair
It's when he quotes the Hadith
Bows for the call to prayer

Don't be down, my friend
You prolly have a better car
Potlucks are surely great
But the chicks dig open bar

The Prebys sat in their pews
Not daring to say a word
A Baptist in a Presby service
They thought, "What in the world?!"

He quietly sat there
Not wanting to cause a scene
He thought he had coyly snuck in
He thought he'd go unseen

He sat there through the sermon
Not knowing what to do
His stomach was growling viciously
Having not eat since 10:22

After service was over
At 12:00 the clock had struck
The Presbys knew why the Baptist was there
Today was their annual potluck

He stood in line patiently
On his face a great big grin
He was about to grab a wing
When a Presby man cut in front of him

He grabbed him by his throat
And tossed him to the floor
He said, "If you cut in front of me again
I'll give it to you once more!"

The police were called in
To calm the people down
They were running frantically
To avoid this Baptist clown

The police came in
And asked "What's up?"
To which the Baptist pointed
To the Presby man,
"His number, the next times he tries to take my place
And steal my cup!"

The moral of this story is
To my Presby friends I warn
Don't buck line in front of a Baptist
Whose mom is a Schoolmarm

Trolled for chicks in pews
Surname's from the Emerald I
Through mom I'm a Jew
Sov hired Magnum PI

I came across two men upon a Christan chat
One was a Presby
Young with a sharp tongue
A drinking man at that!

The other man a great bit older
A Baptist Preacher so the legend says
He ate his friends for nourishment
When facing his near end

They fought not with swords of metal
They fought not over a miss
They fought not with fists
They fought with laughs and God given wit

You see...the story has it
That we are all just His people
Here to love one another
And Praise our Mighty Teacher

We all are different the way God made us
Unique in our own peculiar ways
But take a lesson my bros and my sisses
Lest you fail His glorious mission

All that Abe and Patty do
It is of course in jest
Forgiving and loving souls
An example for the rest

How can we be a witness
And let our Jesus light shine
If all that come to CC
See us only bicker and whine?

I had a Baptist friend
To my apartment of ten years
Hours we did spend
Knocking down the beers

I took him to my bedroom
To watch my favorite show
About the life aquatic
Starring Jacques Cousteau

Crossing the threshold
Something caught the Baptist eye
Talleys on each wall
Which made him wish to fly

"Why do you have these man?
You think your place a prison?
Have you read too much Dumas?
Is your brain damaged by fission?"

The Presby grinned wide
A glint of pride in his smile
All pretenses died
Wanted to gloat for a while

"Those marks over on the right are for the potlucks I've survived
Those marks on the left are for all the Baptist thighs"

Paul the pious Presby
And Bertha the brawling Baptist
Made such the unusual pair
She always donned a buzz cut
And he long pink flowing hair

The days they went to church
One was always at a loss
Because the way the chose which church to attend
Was settled with a coin toss

When Paul would win
Bertha grumbly went
But she felt if she was in hades
She'd probably be more content

The times Paul would lose
His attitude wasn't much better
He rather stay home
And sleep with a bed wetter

So, as you can see
A marriage betwixt a Presby and Baptist can work
But be prepared for highs and lows
And pray for no visit from a stork

I'm a Presby man
With a Baptist woman
From me she should've ran
All the way to Norman

I'll tell you one thing
About my oddball life
It's that I'll be a Baptist too
If she becomes my wife

Because she won't let me sprinkle our prospective kids and I honestly don't think it has scriptural backing anyhow...it's just fun and I like it.

What a wonderful observation!

I never thought this thread could serve a noble purpose. Especially when thighs are involved.

Goodnight, my friends
To sleep I must retire
But this is not the end
I am a poetry Vampire

So you just admitted you suck,
Right?
Aghast, horror and all
When Baptist take communion
You're in the back having a ball

The Presby sets in his bedroom
Staring at the wall
Looking back upon his life
Had he given it his all?

Sure, he was a member of a Presby church
Never missed a Lord's day meeting
Except in times of an emergency
Or when the KKK was having a greeting

What had he accomplished in life
Kept rushing through his mind
Had he done enough work for the Lord
Or would he be 'Left Behind'?

He then broke out into a cold sweat
He heart began to race
He just realized in all the years he was a Presbyterian
In reality
He was a closet Arminian

The Presby church had a special midnight service
They thought it rather odd
But they trusted their newest Pastor
So attended to not make him feel nervous

He came in through the upper window
Came swooping down to the pulpit
Threw the bible out the door
Walked to the first pew and made a hiss

He told them he had them there
To have a special meeting
It was a sermon from Exodus 12
About the lamb and goat that needed bleeding

As he spoke about the blood
His eyes glimmered like a desperado
By the end of the service, everyone had been bitten
By Dracula....err I mean Desdichado

A castle of cement
Outside old Lucerne
Hosted an experiment
Which drew the world's concern

A mad old apologist
Needed the perfect layman
One with a mighty fist
And the strength of Michael Strahan

He dropped the cup he had
At the sound of thunder
Suddenly turned mad
By surging thoughts of wonder

"To the lab Igor!
Thor's hammer says it's nigh
Crank the rod nor
To catch the power of the sky."

The servant did as he was told
His master dabbed his hair with mousse
With steps that were bold
He gathered all his juice

"Calvin's essence from Geneva!
The Dispy nature of Hagee
And a bit from Arminia!"
He didn't know geography

He put in a tray
Stirred it with a ladle
Put it where the body lay
The compound now was stable

Plugged the tubes into the body
Stuck em' through an open stitch
With corpse marinated, ready
Commanded, "Igor, pull the switch!"

Lighting coursed from the heavens
The body began to writhe
At a quarter to eleven
He shouted, "IT'S ALIVE!"

Patrick's former body moved
With a spastic rhythm
Success was truly proved
When it groaned "synnner...gism"

It's such a bad thing
You know I'm not too hostile
If "Franken" has a bad ring
Try Caner's "Bapticostal"

A Presby uses the word retire?
Play the harp, flute, sackbut, and the lyre
For a Presby to use that word
He must be a jerk
Because before one can retire
One must first be willing to work

One time after Sunday service
The Presby Pastor made a mad dash home
He heard something that made him nervous
It chilled him to the bone

He goes into his study
Pulled out his Strong’s
He couldn’t find the answer he wanted
Though he had searched
So very long

He gets out his Funk & Wagnall
When he finds that which he was looking for
He drops that grand old book to the floor
“I don’t like that answer,” he thought
“I will search a little more.”

And goes and gets his Webster’s
But to his dismay
It agreed with t’other book
He didn’t know what else to say

He goes the next Lord’s day
To the confession booth
Says “Forgive me Father George,
I have strayed from the truth.”

”What sin have you committed, my child?”
Was what Father George had asked.
”Have you drank Pabst again,
Or did you drink from the communion flask?”

”No, Father George
Twas neither of one them,” he said
”I used a word, a vile word,
One I realize I never knew it’s definition.
I was using it in the way
A mad man uses ammunition.”

”I am confused my son,
What is it you did so wrong?”
”Father, I used the ‘word’,”
Father George then hit the floor
”Yes Father George, I used the ‘word’
Though I truly meant no harm.”

“I thought I knew its meaning
And please don’t call me a liar
I know we Presbys will not work
So never again will I say


Retire”

Invited to the Baptist shed
I could not decline
Seeing how he earns the bread
Would be mighty fine

"I heard you are retiring!"
He said with kid-like glee
"See how I'm working
Such a busy bee"

I was expecting to see shovels
A wall with different towels
Or perhaps a new novel
With unique use of vowels

There was only a camera set
And a food-stained smock
Eats for people on the internet
While humming JS Bach

Behold the modern era!
Time of the entrepreneur
Where work is wearing mascara
And while rolling on the floor

A Baptist invites a Presby
To a Sunday afternoon meal
They go to Golden Corral
Before they eat, they pray and kneel.

The Baptist grabs a plate
Runs like he’s Usian Bolt
He's foaming at the mouth
Like a rabid billygoat

He piles his plate real high
Goes back to his seat
He eats that food in record time
He goes and gets another plate
Its ‘wash, rinse, repeat’

Two hours later
The Baptist pats his tummy
His buttons about to burst
But that dessert over yonder
Truly looks yummy

The Baptist had 6 plates that day
Not including the desserts and the sodas
He left nary a crumb on that table
Not even one iota

The Presby had two plates
One for food and one for pudding of fig
He gets out his flask of gin
To get himself a swig

The Baptist looks at the Presby
Asks, “Why are you drinking?
People need you to show some control!
What are you thinking?”

”In public, we are God’s witnesses
We are on His canvas the paint.
In public, Brother, with your liquor,
Please show a little restraint.”

Lighthearted likes Des’ posts
Like Des likes his Ruger
Would it be safe to say
Lighthearted is a cougar?

I wrote that in jest
I wrote that in jive
Now from Lighthearted
I run and hide