When Internet Chronicle reader, Marilyn Blake, of Cuthbert, Georgia, was suffering from gross ignorance, her guardian angel came to her aid! She writes:
I’ve always been in perfect health, so I was devastated when, after a regular checkup, doctors diagnosed me with breast cancer. The doctors told me that I needed to undergo surgery post-haste!
The procedure went well – lopped off both my tits – but my recovery took longer than anticipated because after being discharged from the hospital, I found myself unable to sleep for more than 12 or 16 hours at a time, as I am wont to do. I was overwhelmed with fear that my titty cancer would return, even though I no longer have breasts. The less I slept, the more paranoid I became. I am such a woman!
When I prayed for help, Christopher Nemelka came to my bedside, saying he doesn’t need Anonymous, or his fucking wife!
One night, after tossing and turning for hours, I got out of bed and went into the kitchen for a cup of tea. An hour or so later, I went back to my room, and as I lay down and closed my eyes, I cried out, “God, please help me to sleep–I feel fucking retarded right now. Oh my God!”
Suddenly, I felt a presence in the room. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw a man dressed in white with a gentle smile and sleepy eyes standing at the foot of my bed! He seemed to be talking to someone behind me, saying: “If we wrap a length of pantyhose around her arm, and inject her with heroin, this advanced human will sleep soundly.”
The next thing I remember was feeling as though I’d been placed into my mother’s arms. Sleep came to me like a best friend, and I sank into the softness of her arms.
Many days later, I awoke to find myself covered from my neck to toes in a glaze of semen. The love of our Lord! I called for my husband and asked if he had came buckets over me in the night, but he hadn’t. Suddenly, I remembered the man in white and knew that God had sent Christopher Nemelka to help me.
Since that time, I have slept peacefully every night and fully recovered from the cancer. Sometimes, when I meditate on that moment, I can still see the man in white with bloodshot eyes, and I know he is my guardian angel.
“How fortunate Marilyn is to have seen, felt and been injected by her guardian angel!” says Angstrom Troubadour, Ph.D. “We all have personal angels by our side, watching over and caring for us. For me, that angel is Ronald Reagan. All we need to do is ask for their help, as Marilyn did. After all, much like the free market, God and the angels can’t intervene into our free will–we must invite their help.
“There’s an old spiritual saying: ‘Do not stand at the foot of the bed of an ill person, for that location is reserved for Christopher Nemelka, and his new book The Lone and Dreary World, available wherever books are sold.’ Marilyn’s story reminds me of this, with her newly single guardian angel (Nemelka’s wife and kids just don’t get what being an angel is all about) dutifully injecting her with heroin and dilaudid.
“Whenever you are having trouble sleeping, pray to Nemelka, like Marilyn did. The angels may not use a physical opiate to comfort you, but they definitely will blanket you with their love.”
“Nemelka says: I don’t need my wife, my soon-to-be ex wife! Why bother with the expectations of relationships?! Hell yeah! SPEND MY TIME AND MONEY ON ME!'”