The cloud who was afraid of heights, the height who was afraid of clouds

So i was at skidazzle today, it's a snowboard/ski convention. Bought alot of shit but that's neither here no there, because I saw some Indians. No, i'm not joking, real fucking Indians. I know, seeing an pure blooded Indian is about as rare as seeing a pure blooded Indian, but I shit you not. They had their own little stage there with a PA system and about 30 or so chairs layed out for an audience which consisted primarily of parents with their small children who seemed to get a kick out of "cwapping to da sound of da dwums". But the few that were sitting down weren't actually there to watch the Indian pow-wow heyayaya, they were just resting their feet and fell into the trap of feeling obligated to watch because "He Who Coos Like Owl" was making just a little bit too much eye-contact with them. I don't why the Indians were there, perhaps its was one of those "hey, remember us?" kind of promotion deals. But what struck me as being rather out of place was when one of the red men came up and started talking about the spirits and how they have blessed him. He started evengelizing to the people in the audience, telling them to get in touch with the different spirits. Yeah, i thought he was talking about alcohol too until i started listening harder. But it made me think, does evengelizing even fucking work?

Is there the slightest chance in hell- I mean, spirit of the lake land, that someone in that audience was sitting there thinking, "goodbye God, hello tree bark"? I mean don't get me wrong, Native American polytheism/paganism is a spiritual outlook i find rather intruiging, but I wasn't exactly stopping dead in my tracks to think, "FUCK ME, I've had it all wrong this entire time. There ARE spirits out there and one of them is in that fucking rock right there". I mean, it's kinda fuckin hard to prove yourself wrong about some spiritual outlook when you can't even prove yourself right in the first place. It seems like religious affiliation all boils down to what you were handed when you were born, or what sounds the prettiest. And on that note, I now worship Allah, my name is Yasswir Mofommhed Ali, and I wish to fuck 72 virgins when i die. Kill me now, please. But here's what I don't get, if every dead person gets 72 virgins, then does that mean they can only fuck 72 times? Afterall, you're fucking virgins, fuck one and her cherry is popped, you're down to 71. And what happens to the chic after that? No dead person can fuck her, there's signs posted up in Islam Heaven, "Non-virgin intercourse strictly prohibited". She's off with her vibrator cuz that's all she's got from then on. See I think about this shit, apparently Muslims don't cuz they go around believing all this cooky shit. They don't realize that for every dead male, there's gonna be 72 bitches condemned to dildo's for the rest of eternity, but only after they finally get the taste of penis. And that's wrong... Jihad on that, bitches.