Des' Calvinist Love-In

Wine will soothe the stomach
Thus saith the apostle
As surely as the tones of Bach
Will make the mind go docile

Such wisdom the Baptists ignores
And to the Presbyterian's chagrin
He drinks his Methodist juice
And calls the wine a sin

I walked down the hall
Of a future nursing home
To see the groups arrayed
Like the legions in Rome

Ready to argue the baby dunk
With the younger visiting families
I expected Baptist spunk
Praise for Indians in the Ganges

But no Baptists were to be found
None were to be seen
Presbys had no one to pound
But Pentecostals mean

Then someone told me
To my devastation
The Baptist preferred gluttony
To the juice of fermentation

I tip my hat to you sir
And concede than you win.
I joke with you about drinking
But it's definitely not a sin.

This tussle has been fun
I do not wish to quit
This thread wins best in site
The rest of them are them are...poop

Float like a butterfly
Sting like goat.
I say that you win
And all you do is gloat?

Drink away, drink away I say
Don't listen to what others have to say
Drink your wine, liquor, and beer
I'll see you setting in a cop car's seat of rear.

I awaken from my slumber
To read this utter tripe?
When it comes to praise
I treat you like a wife

"Sovereign Grace has strong name"
I right with sheer delight
"I enjoy his time"
Implied in what a write

This simply goes to show
You cannot compliment a Baptist
Down your compliment he'll mow
And think you rather hapless

You ask me why I booze
You ask me why I drink
With your kind I always loose
And bring me to the brink

But praise I can't cease
My words descend like a dove
My masculinity has decreased
With you I am in love

In a bro kinda way.

It is like a bad Eminem movie... Battle it out Rabbit

Gandalf mocks this thread
The wizard clad in white
Cannot reckon in his head
That we are surely right

He boasts a name of a sorcerer
But comes on the attack
A pretend enforcer
The wall is at his back

Back to Khazad Dum
Back to where you died
Where Balrog used his whip
And your clothing fried

I have no patience for this
In Christ I love order
So I'll throw you in a wagon
And send you off to Mordor

One things Presbys read
Is the words of Tolkein
Religiously they open him
To see the truths long spoken

An overwrought myth
One that makes me tired
The greatness of the author
Surely has expired

But what do Baptists read?
Newsweek and comics?
Surely not great works of old
They're still hooked on phonics

Now this is funky

Liquor is quicker
Candy is dandy
Presbys will drink
Whatever is handy

Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Smirnoff,
Even Vermouth
They will even drink
With the Baptist preacher4truth

Trust us...we will. ;-)

Arminian Intelligence Agency
Is such the misnomer
The walk around looking
Like Pyle, first name Gomer.

They compile their data
In neat little folders
Bury it in the strata
And look for it under some boulders

Now where are those files
The A.I.M. guy asks
They hunted and searched for miles
Forgot it was hidden in flasks

So the A.I.M. is not really intelligence
They're really uncouth
The leader of their alliance
Is one preacher4truth.

The A.I.M. was asked if they heard of this new microchip. They thought it was the fragments of Ruffles at the bottom of the bag.

Hmmmmph!!! I thought all Presbys were scotch-ish.

Blarbtendler, make mine a dwubble...

Hmmm...someone needs a grammar lesson. No sentence can be grammatically correct with the words 'Presbyterian' and 'orthodox'' in it.

Pigs are better tasting than some ppl think. Poor Jews.

Lolol.

Not sure who the "winner" is, but SovereignGrace gets an extra point from me for ending most of his rhymes with "WORD!!"

Thoroughly entertaining, gentlemen.

People ask me daily
Des, why no Judaism?
Why cite your blood so rarely?
What is behind this schism?

When honesty is on my lips
I cannot surely fight
The reason for my Jewish rips
Cannot be made aright

Christ is part do be sure
But he is but a piece
It renders me impure
No better than grease

I'll tell you a story
I watched the movie Taken
And made potato skins with something gory
I crowned them all with bacon

Isn't it sweet?.

I met a Pentecostal minister
On my longest journey
We expected something sinister
A sanguinary tourney

I cracked open a Welches
Passed it over to him
Complimented his wife
On a most righteous whim

She spoke in odd language
He went into convulsions
A Roman Catholic passed us by
And observed that we're all orange

I grab the Papist by his miter
With fury in my eyes
He thought me an uncouth fighter
His fist began to rise

The Pentecostal calmly stood up
His wife reverted back to English
They pushed themselves between us
A fracas they would relish

"How dare you lump us into one?"
He said with fury on his face
"From that one you'd better run
The loon's into radical grace!"

The Papist ran far afield
We settled with a laugh
I asked the Pentecostal
why he warned of my wrath

"Do not think we're all that close!
We may deny the Pope's religion
But that man's a closer ally
He's also a semi-Pelagian!"

Mic drop!