Divine Advice For Divine Dreamer

Dear Divine Advice,

Last night, I had a crazy dream, and I’m hoping you might help me figure out what it means. It started with me on a date with Zombie Mother Teresa. We were watching Driving Miss Daisy in the local movie house, and at some point we both reached into the popcorn bucket at the same time. Our hands touched, and suddenly we were both overcome with lust. I looked into her milky pupil-less eyes, and the next thing I know, we’re naked on the sticky floor, fucking like a couple of wild dogs. Then the guy in the row in front of us turns around, and I see that it’s Pope Francis. Embarrassed, I immediately stop thrusting and pull out of Zombie Mother Teresa. But then realize that the Pope is actually smiling at us. He stands up and I see that he, too, is naked, with his hard dick in his hand. “Don’t stop now,” he says to us. “I’m just about to blow my load.” And that’s when I woke up.

My best guess is that my dream is a calling for me to become a priest. But before I give up my current life, I need to know for sure. And, if that’s not what my dream means, then what else could it be? Is this God’s way of telling me that I’m the true Dalai Lama?

—Divine Dreamer


Dear Divine Dreamer,

I’m getting really sick of you people. You are a pervert, and just about everything you wrote is sacrilegious, if I still had the power to do it I would smite you right now. I can still smite people, my hands are just tired. Anyway, you are a pervert, and what you said about Zombie Mother Teresa is a lie! I know Zombie Mother Teresa, I’ve met Zombie Mother Teresa multiple times, and you, sir, are no Zombie Mother Teresa! Not even in your dreams.

10 Hail Marys and chop your dick off with a spoon, and then you can become a priest.

—Jesus the Just


Dear Divine Dreamer,

You really hit a sore spot with the big boy upstairs, but I’d have to agree with him on this one. Zombie Mother Teresa is really into fisting, and by ‘really’ I mean she’ll fist you before you shake hands on the first date. There are many reasons Jesus can’t smite people anymore, but the fisting is a big one, they fist each other all the time, they’re like two puppeteers, and the odor is unbelievable, it’s like nothing else I’ve ever smelled. You know how you can go into a room after people have been fucking and smell the fucking? Fisting is the same way, and the odor lingers.

You should definitely become a priest, but before you do, you have to fist at least three people, and in real life, not in your dreams. You’d be surprised how popular fisting is, in some states, it’s an alternative to contraception.

—Satan the Mack

Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to ryan@skullislandtimes.com, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan.

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RK Galaga

RK Galaga is the author of "Prehistoric Passion From Mars," "The Erotic Secrets of Shelley Frankenstein," "Lust Finds a Way," and "The Erotic Adventures of Paul Bunyan."
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