Stalin victim of demonic possession!

It was awful.

I was just sitting near the computer, watching as geeky daddy obsessively scoured the internet for information about my grandparents - they live in Ocean Springs MS, click here to help - when, suddenly, a feeling like heartburn, only much worse, began to rack my foot-long body.

A foul stench - equal parts sulphur and cheap cologne - filled the room.

I retched, but to no avail. I felt a cold, evil, soul-strangling presence inside me, choking off all kindness, not to mention my capacity for logical thought. That's how I knew it was Pat Robertson's evil, foul demon spirit that was taking control.

Suddenly, a hideous, screeching voice arose from me.

"This storm Katrina is God's punishment on you, Amaaayricuh! How dare you heathens question our deeeeyvinely appointed leader, George Duhbeya Bush? Huh? How dare you allow this righteous man's poll numbers to sink into the thirties? God is aahaaaaaangryyyy at you, Amayricuh, for questioning His Deeeeyvine Weeeeesdom, buah buah buah!"

This was followed, so daddy told me, by a fundraising pitch for closet homo Ralph Reed and other Nazi candidates favored by Robertson.

Thankfully, I was knocked out cold by witnesses and spoon-fed Pepto-Bismol. I feel much better now, if deeply embarassed, and will share this new-found technique of demon-management - really, the Pepto-Bismol helped - with the staff over at the 700 Club. No doubt they deal with eruptions like this far more often.