“Line up,” they yelled, “for mandatory fun!” Then marched we out to college field and there did sit with paper plates and plastic cups and wondered why we bothered.
No music sounded there, no dance was danced, no wine was drunk and chaperons marched to and fro to see that all was well in order. All hands and feet were spaced as chaste decreed.
And thus we sat and reveled in our khakis and collars for four and a half hours until at last the merciful end released us from the burden of such gaiety and each returned back to their homework, their labor, and the quiet of their solitary bunk.
And of the remainders of the feast they gathered up a single can of off-brand cola and half a Hawaiian roll.
Thank you, Fundy U. Good times. Good times.
Oh the party is terrific,
Family, friends all gathered near
And I might be having fun too
If that guy weren’t drinking beer
But instead of conversation,
Food, and laughter freely spread
Now I’ve got to spend time judging
Preaching sermons in my head
And it’s not just booze I’ve noticed
In this gathering tonight
Do you see that woman yonder with
The shirt that is too tight?
And the music’s loudly playing
I suspect some folks may dance
At a table in the next room
I see cards, a game of chance
So…instead of deigning to partake
(Not asking who had blessed the steak)
I’ll jot down each false step you make
And calculate for each mistake
Just how much offense I will take.
I’ve got reasons.
A silly blog dedicated to Independent Fundamental Baptists, their standards, their beliefs, and their craziness.
