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Day Drinker Spends the Morning Getting the Bejesus Scared Out of Her

Holy moralistic mind-fucks! Can't a day drinker just have her morning brew without the hassle of soul-saving? Seriously, I'll be in a much better mood for it -- think of the glorious singing, friendly back-slapping, and alcohol-induced, "Lord, I love you's!" That wasn't to be the case this morning fellow...
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Holy moralistic mind-fucks!

Can't a day drinker just have her morning brew without the hassle of soul-saving? Seriously, I'll be in a much better mood for it -- think of the glorious singing, friendly back-slapping, and alcohol-induced, "Lord, I love you's!"

That wasn't to be the case this morning fellow New Times scribe Benjamin Leatherman sent me a link to a comic simply titled "Happy Hour" by Chick Publications. Promoting and seeking to win converts to Christian fundamentalism, "Chick Tracts" (comics) are intended to reach those who are hostile to evangelists (hey, he said the hotel room was paid for) by appealing to their curiosity. Well that's just great, Mr. Jack T. Chick, 'cause I am curious, and I like comics, and I love happy hours almost as much as I love day drinking. Okay, just as much.

Unfortunately, after this righteous read and a video of a singing Christian puppet called Lil Marcy, I need to either calm my Jesus jitters with a seriously strong cocktail or cease the morning sauce altogether. But don't just take my word as gospel. See for yourself after the jump.

Poor Happy Hour Jerry. Dude just wants to have a good time, maybe cause a little trouble. And he would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling kids! (Oh, and Jesus.) Check out Chick's "Happy Hour" scribblings and prepare to rethink the drink.

And as if that wasn't enough to set this day drinker running out into the morning sun screaming, here's a gem of a video starring a Christian puppet called Lil Marcy who sings about being a sunbeam for Jesus while bouncing up and down in front of a red house, where unsaved souls have locked themselves in, awaiting the untold wrath of her Amazing Technicolor Dreamshirt and dead eyes. She might be OK for some, but I'll keep my Beer Prayer at the Swizzle Inn.

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