If you don’t shout His name when smelling a rose, well, that’s okay.
Not really bowled over by the sight of a glorious sunset? Fair enough.
But if you don’t give God His props for orgasms that make your toes curl like frying bacon, well, you’re about to feel the awesome wrath of the Almighty’s lightning bolt enema up your ass.
"You are NOT to go anywhere near this tree, understood?"
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