Sunday, April 15, 2018
At Middlesex, like Jesus, in partial purgatory of other's sin, the Devil came to me as another man, and offered money and anything, but I denied him but the Devil wept because he failed and could not even ask a question that was not nonsensical manipulation, and out of pure guilt he wept. And he knew he could not ask for it was not his to ask, he learned humility that I cannot be beaten, for a reason. It happened. I gave the man dressed as the Devil as a pasty money and he later he died of a drug overdose, Robert Cerullo, to this day he is my friend. It was not a formality. Am I grandiose, yes, am I a liar, no, I am sinless, but not according the wolf in sheep's clothing Joel Osteen, who told me I was not sinless, and quite frankly who the fuck is he?