MESSAGE FROM THE GHOST OF ELVIS TO HIS FANS..
"Look, just because you bought some damn ouiji board does not mean you can just call me up from my eternal rest any old goddamn time you choose to discuss the best way to fry peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and other 'little people,' shit . . . and I will not help anyone, repeat anyone, with their corns... NEVER AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME... you're nice once, and then ya got old lady corn prayers hanging over your head all day, man... got me shooting up clouds I am so pissed... and let me just add, I AM NOT THE PATRON SAINT OF BISCUITS AND GRAVY and I dam well would sue anyone who said so while I was alive.... why the hell can't I be patron saint of Cadillac'... but don't think that means praying to me for Cad's will work,either, because it has been tried too many dam times for this cat. I got drugs, women, Jesus to talk to... hell, even here, I'm a godda.... excuse my language, Lord... STAR. Turns out Jesus couldn't wait to get me singing in his club up here, gave me the whole bowl instruction thing... So singing for the Lord, entertaining the Angels.... can't you fans see, da... dang it...leave it off with the Ouji board... every time I got me a couple angels wings wrapped around in in a whirlpool of clouds, one of ya is asking, "Elvis, oh, Elvis, will it matter if I use Margarine, instead of the preferred butter, to make fried peanut butter and banana sanwiches?"
Hell, it feels bad ignoring ya'll, you know that.. and if I don't answer these angels look at me like ... anyways... then you get to asking questions about some damn thing I was too drugged out to remember in any way shape or form, okay.... so just stop, it would help my life alright, a favor.... and remember that about biscuits and gravy, I got nothing in the world against them, but I AM NOT THE PATRON SAINT OF BISCUITS AND GRAVY. Think Big Old Black Cadillac with the stereo loud and rocking with a posse armed to the teeth, a bunch of drugged up and drunk,hard fisted good old boys having one hell of a time, alright???? With more chicks smashed around us than you ever had in your life.... kinda like Heaven is some days... one big party. Pray ya get here... or He likes your music. His dad was kind of pissed at me, but even he had to admit the notches on my bed wore down many an oak four poster. Of course, God will only admit that when I get him stoned."
"Look, just because you bought some damn ouiji board does not mean you can just call me up from my eternal rest any old goddamn time you choose to discuss the best way to fry peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and other 'little people,' shit . . . and I will not help anyone, repeat anyone, with their corns... NEVER AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME... you're nice once, and then ya got old lady corn prayers hanging over your head all day, man... got me shooting up clouds I am so pissed... and let me just add, I AM NOT THE PATRON SAINT OF BISCUITS AND GRAVY and I dam well would sue anyone who said so while I was alive.... why the hell can't I be patron saint of Cadillac'... but don't think that means praying to me for Cad's will work,either, because it has been tried too many dam times for this cat. I got drugs, women, Jesus to talk to... hell, even here, I'm a godda.... excuse my language, Lord... STAR. Turns out Jesus couldn't wait to get me singing in his club up here, gave me the whole bowl instruction thing... So singing for the Lord, entertaining the Angels.... can't you fans see, da... dang it...leave it off with the Ouji board... every time I got me a couple angels wings wrapped around in in a whirlpool of clouds, one of ya is asking, "Elvis, oh, Elvis, will it matter if I use Margarine, instead of the preferred butter, to make fried peanut butter and banana sanwiches?"
Hell, it feels bad ignoring ya'll, you know that.. and if I don't answer these angels look at me like ... anyways... then you get to asking questions about some damn thing I was too drugged out to remember in any way shape or form, okay.... so just stop, it would help my life alright, a favor.... and remember that about biscuits and gravy, I got nothing in the world against them, but I AM NOT THE PATRON SAINT OF BISCUITS AND GRAVY. Think Big Old Black Cadillac with the stereo loud and rocking with a posse armed to the teeth, a bunch of drugged up and drunk,hard fisted good old boys having one hell of a time, alright???? With more chicks smashed around us than you ever had in your life.... kinda like Heaven is some days... one big party. Pray ya get here... or He likes your music. His dad was kind of pissed at me, but even he had to admit the notches on my bed wore down many an oak four poster. Of course, God will only admit that when I get him stoned."