Fucking Day: The ecstasy of loving God 🌭

“Get thee inside Me, saideth the Lord,” I typed after at least 60 different versions of the same exact thing. Hi, I’m Seanbaby from the Internet, longtime researcher of ridiculous things that shouldn’t be, and never has my job been easier than now. I’m very excited to show you The ecstasy of loving God, which is precisely what it sounds like, but of course weirder.

This horny nonsense about emptying your balls with Christ was written in 2009 by a minister named John Crowder. According to the back of the book, he turned to Christ after stealing 22% of another man’s beard and his graphic designer only adjusts font kerning on horseback.

Hold on, wait. “HE IS AUTHOR OF” what? He is author of fucking what?

The first word in the title of his other book is “j” and the second is “fo to the apostrophe power”? Is it an audio book on the history of robot farts? After people are done laughing at the bottom half of your face, do you tell them, “I wrote two books. One is called The ecstasy of loving God about my rock hard boner for Jesus and the title of the other one is a five minute scream into a slide whistle I’ll start now.”

You’re almost certainly thinking, “We live in a society. There is no way some guy wrote a book about bringing yourself to full orgasm with Christian enthusiasm.” Well, we should really look inside this book before you make a total fool out of yourself.

John Crowder is a Simpsons character of a person. He’s a cool-to-the-max minister who understands and relates to teens by turning all religious text into an allegory for sex or drugs. Because what teenage Christian needs sex and drugs if they have a straight-talkin’, sunglasses inside adult telling them Jesus is kind of like sex and drugs when you think about it? What I’m saying is buckle up, because there’s a wild finger licker in this napkin community. To be more clear, he writes like he’s cobbling together ordinary Christian sentiments with erotic magnetic poetry.

John writes every line like he’s waking up to Christ’s musk lingering on his still moist thighs. Whether you think there’s a God zapping this man’s balls from space or not, it’s hard to imagine a context where this isn’t crazy. Like in his own community, does he tell other preachers, “I try to write a sermon like God is listening, maybe fondling a nipple, His mighty pinky inching slowly closer to His asshole. What’s your guys’ process?”

You want to draw things out slowly so you have God just dripping off your chin. Thick ropes of His love stuck in your stupid beard for days.

He is going to drench this whole church in that shit.

You’re going to need a tow truck to get you out of that tight hole, sticky boy.

Not all of this spiritual fucking is spit-lubed raw dogging. Sometimes God very much makes tender love to you like a new husband “as He carries you over the threshold of His heavenly chambers.” Look, not all of it makes sense. John is only a rad dude who takes Jesus in his mouth, not a romance novelist. God fucks you, it’s beautiful, and if it isn’t that was probably a demon?

I have no notes on this, a wonderful choice of words and historical citation.

There are hundreds of pages written this way. John describes his pleasures and explosions and climaxes like someone dared Fabio he couldn’t make your grandma cum with a voicemail.

At its most basic, this book is 344 pages of a grifter rewording how orgasmic it is when God’s love slides inside you. But John also talks a lot about getting drunk or high on God. And he claims to know what he’s talking about. He doesn’t confess to any drug abuse but he does mention he had the most serious drug habit “among his friends,” which probably means he drove past the old mouthwash factory on the way to their abstinence sock hops.

To explain, God wants to drink you to thoroughly enjoy you. You might feel like a piece of shit, but He has already come inside you. I should have mentioned how even when he’s explaining the “drunk on Jesus” part of his teachings, he uses the same phrasing as the “fully penetrated by Jesus” part of his teachings.

Generally, you get drunk on Christ when you’re at a revival meeting and everyone freaks out, but John might just walk around drinking God in public. Here’s a story about that:

John was sloshed on the Lord. He was so drunk that drunk people were laughing at him. And then he said three very normal words to them.

I guess another thing I should mention about John Crowder is none of his bullshit stories happened. The clown-bearded author of j to^` i b t ohbopl=ɔ bcl oj bop ^k a qeb kbt j vpqf p, who by his own admission doesn’t know what the shit is going on, walked up to a group of smokers and asked them if they ever drank God. Okay, man. Let’s see where this goes.

So he tells these strange men “God” wants to “touch them” and “reveal Himself?” And in no time he “had a young man praying to receive the Lord?” And this type of thing happens to him all the time? I mean, you don’t need a theological degree to see the metaphor in this religious text is that John Crowder fucked some guy’s mouth behind a bar in Maine. And it was not an isolated incident.

Let me try to put all this in a cooler way, kids n’ teens. You know Bono, from the popular rock singing group U2? Well, he made a great point when he performed the hit secular song entitled “There’s Nothing Better than the Real Thing.” Ordinary liquor and drugs are “totes unsubscribe” when you can “shoot up” with a “hit” of pure Jesu– wait. What am I doing? I’m trying to do a parody of this fucking guy and I’m writing his exact book word-for-word back at him.

Roll me up and smoke me? Golly, like a marijuana cigarette reefer? I guess when you put it in a non-square way like that, I get it, youth pastor John! Thanks!

For about half the book I was under the impression “drinking God” was simply a way John described the euphoric feeling of positive group energy. It turns out it’s much more literal. John says his ministry tours with a group of actual bartender angels only he can see who roll out actual God beer barrels and actually pour it into worshippers.

So none of this is an allegory? It’s… it’s magical trappist fairies putting beer into teens? That’s so much crazier than a dork repackaging religious ecstasy for Gen Z drug-addict virgins, which was already maximum crazy. And I don’t like all these sudden appearances by the word “play.” When someone talks about climaxing this much, “play” is code for weird sex.

This guy has four chapters on sexy God blasting every corner of your life with His cum, and now he warns us we’ll never enter the Kingdom of Heaven “unless we become like little children?” I don’t know where John Crowder is going with this, but I do know the sex scandal he’ll one day be remembered for is going to be gross as shit.

In John’s own words, he asks young people on the street if they want to get high. And they usually do. It’s probably not the most ethical way to recruit, but we don’t have the luxury of time. Open satanic worship and orgies are going mainstream, and the Christians are going to have to dance against those forces of darkness for the fate of the world. I want you to stop here for a moment and ask yourself if I’m completely fucking around or very honestly representing something John wrote in his book. Really think about it.

Okay, let’s see if you were right.

Ready yourself for widespread Holy Ghost dance trance explosions. It could get messy. Goddamnit, I’m doing that thing where I’m trying to be silly but accidentally rewriting his exact text. Some who have no context for what’s going on may even strip off their clothes as the glory expels their demons!

John Crowder knows sex and drugs don’t appeal to all Christians. In fact, you may not know this, but a small percentage of hardcore pentecostal worshippers are a bit straight-laced, even nerdy. John has something for them too– real life superpowers. It’s rare, but God might grant you fantastic abilities while He’s inside you. And, I mean, we’re already here. Let’s see what this goddamn idiot has to say about them.

John says you might glow out of your face if you do your religious seizure right, which should let you get up for a glass of water or find your way out of a cave as long as you don’t mind fucking Jesus the whole time. And why would you?

Sometimes we get so comforted by His rod and staff we can penetrate solid objects, because that’s how a self-aware person chooses to describe “Walking Through Walls” in his book about ecstasy.

It’s pretty rare, but sometimes parts of your body get longer when the Holy Ghost spits on your corporeal holes. It’s a true testament to John Crowder’s abilities as a writer that after three pages of text about “Body Elongation” I’m still not sure whether or not he’s just talking about a boner.

“You are immune to fire now, during the ecstasy of rapture, saint! But we’ll see how well you resist the flames after Jesus is done fucking you! Bring another log! Let’s see how long this King of Kings can last!”

The following is an excerpt from one of the many sections on levitation:

The main problem with these unlikely fantastic powers is they only work during a full drunken fuckfest with God, and they’re kind of inconsistent. But John has “a minister friend” in India who can levitate any time she wants. Unfortunately, she won’t show it to anyone else. Which means there are three possibilities: One, God gave the power of flight to a shy woman and told her not to show anyone to fuck with her. Two, John is making this up. Or Three, this idiot believed a common magic trick was, in this one case, miraculously real. I get the feeling if a clown was excited and engorged enough, John would leave that birthday convinced the Lord can bestow the gift of Endless Handkerchiefs from The Mouth.

Seriously, though; having sex with God is not an exact science. He does whatever He wants and he might light your flesh the fuck on fire.

I only included this part because I wanted you to hate this guy too. I want you to picture him there to give a sermon and instead he forgets how to read and takes a nap. Or, completely proud of himself, he starts making paper airplanes out of his notes. What a total asshole. He shows up day drunk on God’s sweet cock to his job working with kids and wrote a book bragging about it.

This is an impossible book to recap, and only a great genius would attempt it, but here it is: if you pray exactly right, you’ll maintain a drunken orgasm that gives you the abilities of several X-Men and all sex offenders. But like all metaphysical powers, they’re suspiciously inconsistent and we’re left with no real way of knowing how we can use them in our lives. At least I thought so until I got to a story John Crowder included from his personal life. 1900🌭 readers, gather your loved ones around the screen for the tale of “Satanic Ritual Squashed” from the chapter “High on Jesus.”

There they were, gleaming from God’s semen and an indoor rain shower, walking past a group of noisy Satan worshippers. Most people would keep walking and not turn the city park into a battleground for Good vs. Evil. This is because they don’t know how to drink.

John Crowder cannot stress this enough: You bitch ass Christian pussies don’t know how to drink.

So in a story he chose to tell, his daughter raised her hand at a group of Florida teens and shrieked gibberish at them. It was guttural madness! Divine sounds in a tongue unknowable to Man! But John knew what she meant– she was going to tear the tips of their dicks off and put them in a bag. If you thought anything different, it’s because you don’t know how to drink.

And now his baby is charging the satanists. People joke about dad reflexes, but if you’re letting your one-year-old move toward a group of Satan worshipers long enough to describe it as “running,” you know in your heart that isn’t your son. Those are the reflexes of someone who is right now ducking a punch they took in third grade. John Crowder claims he knows how to drink, but little girls and babies pick fights faster than him. If I smelled a discarded Miller Lite can on the wind I’d be drunk enough to attack the teen satan club insulting my Jesus cum-drenched family.

“As my baby ran away from me, abandoning me for the teens making fun of me, I had only one choice: getting bonkers worbled for Christ! Going simply total golly whoopsy in His lusty joy! A secular strategist would have leaned over and picked up their baby, but oh Heavens no. My move was entering a trance! Getting shit-faced on God! Injecting that Holy Motherfucker right into my dick veins. Pulsing and pumping, I could let any number of these babies die and cockblast out ten new ones. OH GOD I’M SO HIGH WHERE ARE MY KIDS. HAHA FUCK.”

None of this happened, so he could have put anything here. He could have said or done anything here, and he had himself make the rookie non-seeker-sensitive move of singing and dancing at the satanists having a fist fight with his baby. I don’t need to look it up to know Florida law allows any citizen to legally open fire on anything close to this. If your attorney read this out loud to a judge he would give you your gun back and along with a medal.

Okay, John. I want to be clear: a group of Satan worshipping teenagers were in the park and your children, 9 and 1, went crazy and attacked them. You stayed back to absolutely lose yourself in the joy and majesty of Jesus Christ’s intoxicating sexuality. Then you told the Satan worshipers about it and it blew their mind so fucking hard they started screaming and conjuring demons. Some of them  were mobbed by your friends, possibly injured. Then, in a story where you’re making it all up, you forget the details and suddenly this was a séance you were breaking up.

This is a weird anecdote to invent, sure, but maybe there’s some kind of moral behind it? Maybe mockery can’t hurt you if you’re too absurd to exist? Maybe he only put this in the book to help sell the story he told his wife when he came back from the park without two of the kids? I don’t know why I’m speculating. We can look at the very next paragraph and see what he meant for us to take away from it.

Oh. Jesus Christ, this motherfucker is squirrel dickskin crazy.

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This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, Rhia: who drank God, smoked Buddha, vaped Krishna, and did a keg stand of Ahura Mazda.