When I was in prison, at Ringerike, I met this Gypsy called Elvis. I liked Elvis, he was nice! Not too bright, but for the most parts nice. Once, as we were working in the metal shop, we were having a cigarette, and a cup of coffee. Me and Elvis were talking with each other, and just for laughs, I asked him; “Do you know how to identify Jesus?” He answered no.
I very gently slapped him in his face. The man flipped! He started kicking my chair in anger, feeling I had stolen his pride. I started laughing, as I begged him to stop. I laughed so hard, I barely could talk. When I finally recovered from my laughing, I told him; “Now I know, you’re not him!”
You just had to Love Elvis! 😀
Later, as we were talking in the yard, I told him I was psychic. He didn’t believe me, and wanted to test me. He had a couple of Gypsy friends standing next to him, and said something in Romani, which I (obviously) didn’t understand, for then to ask me what he had said. I immediately answered, without even thinking about it; “Suck my dick!”
Elvis and his two Romani friends turned white!
I tried to talk with Elvis, to make him understand he couldn’t go on like he did, and that he had to stop stealing. To illustrate my point, I took my left index finger to his head, and I told him; “Your problem is you’ve got too much Hollywood on your mind! If you stop seeking that which you cannot have, then you will find what you need!”
Elvis Loved me, and I Loved him! Elvis was Nice! But Elvis was Not Jesus 😉
As for me, you can call Satan 😀