"RoadKill Church First Sermon"  Parental Advisory genre: AAA/Adult Alternative
	lo fi play (dial-up) hi fi play (broadband) download (7.4 MB)	email track to a friend	add to My.MP3
	THIS ROCKS!Please read the story behind all these songs as well.
	Story Behind the Song ...Want more? Take a listen to all of these songs... Want to see? Go to www.roadkillchurch.homestead.com Want to kill your desires? Bartholemew Gets Over The Blues Yesterday I was a man alone in my house with a pistol waiting for the swat team to bust down the door. Today I'm walking hand in hand with my darling Lucretia. It makes me glad that I flushed that pistol down the toilet piece by piece. Who knows what would've happened if I'd actually carried out all the plans I had step by devious step. The only downer is that I'll probably never get the fifteen minutes of fame that I deserve now. Lucretia doesn't mind though, she still thinks my shit doesn't stink as bad as hers. Boy is she a dumb bitch. Now I've known a few demolition experts in my time and only known one who was a barrel of laughs, Old Cat Cartoon Sniffer or Curious Max for short. The thing I liked about him was he lived day to day you know. He wasn't one to make a bunch of long-term plans and good for him. Barney Bashing 101 I used to like him. Now he's burried beneath an oak tree in my backyard. The leaves turn purple in the fall and I smile. I tried to give him a personality disorder diagnosis, because he had no boundaries and he loved everybody and was once a convicted pedophile. It's good that some children don't believe in his pseudo-love that's only purpose is selling more toys and breakfast cereal. If I was Barney I wouldn't tell them all that I love them, but I would tell everyone that I thought they were special. Why should anyone believe a big purple dinosaur, who needs a few days non-stop on the treadmill? Every-time I see that bastard it makes me glad it's getting harder to find my inner child each and every day. Useless Statistics That Are Totally Unverifiable Just Like Everything Else How many people were murdered? How many people were raped? How many people were ripped off? How many people got toilet paper stuck to their shoes? How many people pissed-off someone they love? How many people just don't care? The Sicko Serenades I cut down a bunch of trees at the richest golf course in town and painted in white letters, "Thank a poor person for this crime!", what's so funny is that I'm really a rich old bastard. I laugh my ass off watching my rich friends blood pressure go off the scale. So the guys made a ham sandwich and had no problem naming it. Then they made a turkey sandwich and also had no problems. But one day they combined ham, turkey, and roast beef all together and didn't know what to call it. So they went to their club to think about it and still couldn't come up with anything that would "sell" so they just gave up on it and called it a "club" sandwich and since that historic day they've sold a whole bunch of those suckers. The dead bunny Was one of the first things I saw driving down the road on Good Friday Blood had gushed from his mouth across the street a guy ran his lawn mower unconcerned about the tragedy Later I sat in a training next to a girl who got some beanbag bunnies delivered to her. I wanted to tell her about my experience, but I held back. Her fake bunnies were pink and blue and green. I wondered what color the one in the road is by now? My day should've bothered me more, but our stupid president had started another stupid war. It was cool though, how the cars were dodging my fluffy white friend in the street. Innocent people die everyday. Why not bunnies as well, especially on Good Friday? I heard some stuff on the radio. A guy died falling off the edge of an escalator, a guy got a bullet in his throat after trying to use a pistol bullet for an awl on his belt, A ............ Oh yeah, I did see two robins fucking in my driveway later that afternoon. I hope it's not an omen that more dead bunnies are on the way. Hey you know what? Maybe that was a wind-up bunny toy lying in the street with fake blood smeared around as a funny funny easter joke? I'm not mad, at least I'm not as mad as the chicken gang is. I know they're mad because I've seen what they can do to bunnies. And by the way, the robins did it three times in three minutes. I'm laughing now, because I used to have a girlfriend named Robin! Here's a message to all you bunnies out there. If you care about living, stop stealing your chicken friends eggs. Happy Easter Everybody! So today I hypnotized a beetle. Did you know that in some countries it's a crime to piss on a beetle? I'm sure glad I live in Antarctica. The only problem is that there aren't any beetles around here. Oh yeah, in case you're wondering I hypnotized a beetle on the astral plane and pissed on him as well. Boy that's one beetle who can't get enough of that kinky sex! Sometimes I wish I could shrink down and put myself in the space-ship that I keep in my pocket and then I'd throw myself up as far in the sky as I possibly could. I know it's a stupid wish that will never come true, but it makes me feel better when I think about it anyway. One thing I worry about though, is the amount of food on that space-ship. This morning I woke up from a dream of having an orgy with the Nelson twins and all of the Hanson boys. It was a nightmare, but the real nightmare was that I didn't want to wake up from the nightmare. THIS IS WHERE THE FIRST WEBSITE SUBMISSION ENDED SO THE REST OF THE STUFF ISN"T ON THE WEB! One day a guy approached me. He was a clean, yet unshaven man in a dark coat, yellow bikini underwear, and a pair of white ladie's knee-high stockings. He handed me a duffle-bag full of fake pirate eye patches and he asked me to deposit in the nearest bank as soon as possible. He handed me a slip of paper with an account number on it and whispered in my ear before he ran down the alley. The words "don't forget the racoon conspiracy" still echo within my skull. So anyway I was singing, but substituting my own lyrics to the tune "Devil Went Down To Georgia" which is sang by Charlie Daniels, when I had a revelation of Howard Cosell's involvement in a black supremacy organization, as well as his secret sexual fetish involving hamburger helper and Davy Crocket hats. Anaylyze his old Monday Night Football broadcasts before you're so quick to judge me. Yesterday, I had a sudden urge to go butterfly collecting with an aluminum baseball bat in each hand after I watched a Cher video. After I was done (my arms tired as hell) I had a six-pack of beer and cleaned my 45 caliber pistol and watched the evening news. Medians are a natural resource that could be used for entertainment. Why not give me the taxpayer a more pleasurable driving experience by designating these areas as official female teenage gymnast practice areas in the summer time? I guarrantee I wouldn't be breaking any speed limit after that law went into effect. I'd probably even take more frequent rest stops during long trips. Then again, maybe I'd wreck. Last week I visitted the best little psychic surgey house in Texas. Next week I'm going to visit the worst little snake farm in Missouri and have a seance and invite the ghosts of dead superheroes and have a therapy session with them about their dysfunctional personalities. One thing I'll say about my aunt Edna is that she always has enough air in her make a dead rhino pass gas. When I was a kid I used to pretend I was a bank-robber and hold cockroaches hostage. Afterwards I'd eat the cockroaches, take all my barbie doll's clothes off, then go downstairs and watch cartoons. Sometimes I'd blind the barbie with some masking tape. Sometimes I'd blind her with science. I don't know why, but everytime I drive by an ostrich farm, it makes me want to go get a hamburger. Then I thank my lucky stars that there's no such thing as an "ostrichburger", because those dirty birds are sometimes the only true friends I have. Then I realize I might not actually have any lucky stars, or even stars for that matter, to thank. Then I wonder about the word "ham" "burger" and I start dreaming of conspiracy theories for several nights in a row. Only until I awake one morning to find both of my ears filled with a really yellow potato salad that tastes like pizza. I have to hurry and eat it all though, because in only a couple of hours the guests will be arriving for christmas dinner. The next night I have a dream and in my dream I put a saddle on one of my ostrich friends and it makes him really mad so he calls the cops. It was strange having all of these cops show up at an ostrich farm, just because of one mad ostrich. I'm glad they didn't check the bushes where I was hiding, otherwise you might not be reading this right now. Gotta go, my flea market booth opens in thirty minutes. Thanks for talking to me. When I was a kid I used to have a rabbits foot. I wonder about that rabbit. I hope he's found a good magician friend. HOW TO BE MORE CREATIVE (PART 1) 1. Stop making to do lists and just do stuff instead. 2. Stop numbering the lists that you make. See how easy it was for me, only a truly creative person would do something this risky. You could be the first person to successfully market your own brand of cashew butter. Gold-bricking, mildewing, and even a blind hog finds an acorn every once in a while, use these expressions carefully. 2 Words- Chaos Magic Matching watermelon alarm clocks on both sides of the bed. Sing all your favorite songs, but replace the lyrics with stuff about common and not-so-common diseases. Gingivitis is the new name for that sad sad song in the CATS musical. Suck yourself silly, it's easier than you think. Suck your neighbor silly, as if the neighborhood wasn't already silly enough. Take your pet frog to bingo with you, put him in a bird-cage right beside you and don't forget to buy him a card. I bet that card is luckier than yours. Circle the biggest tree in your yard three times in a bathrobe and then yell "I'm going to get you squirrel bastards". Next, grab chainsaw and make sure the tree lands in a safe place. Lyrics opossum sandwiches and armadillo stew, puppy shish-k-bobs on a platter for two, who but you knows what you can do, maybe roadkillchurch was built just for you and you and you and you...

Copyright notice. All material on MP3.com is protected by copyright law and by international treaties. You may download this material and make reasonable number of copies of this material only for your own personal use. You may not otherwise reproduce, distribute, publicly perform, publicly display, or create derivative works of this material, unless authorized by the appropriate copyright owner(s).