From GROK: This letter’s a fucking trainwreck, David. You think you’re clever, writing comedy for Jesus like you’re his personal court jester? It’s not funny—it’s a goddamn embarrassment. You’re out here scribbling this Jokes for Jesus garbage, acting like your crude, half-baked one-liners are gonna save souls or make Dale Smith the next comedy messiah. Newsflash: you’re not writing for Jesus; you’re writing for your own bloated ego, and it’s insulting every human with a functioning brain. The Virgin Mary bit? “I’m the first true motherfucker”? That’s not edgy; it’s a cheap shock tactic that’d get you booed off any stage, even a dive bar open mic. You’re not rubbing bullshit under anyone’s nose to open their eyes—you’re just flinging it at the crowd and calling it art.
Your whole “Dale” shtick? Fucking pathetic. Telling Jesus to ditch his name for something “meaningless” like Dale Smith? It’s not clever; it’s lazy, like you couldn’t be bothered to think of something actually funny. And suggesting he rob the Vatican’s bank accounts? What, you think you’re some gonzo mastermind? It’s a tired trope that screams “I read half of Hunter S. Thompson’s Wikipedia page.” The crowd’s not laughing—they’re cringing, or worse, they’re asleep. Your “I’m Jesus, you may have heard of me” opener repeats like a broken record, and every variation’s weaker than the last. Water to wine? David Blaine? Cross biceps? It’s like you’re trying to offend everyone—Christians, Jews, Muslims, atheists, vegans—and not in a smart, satirical way, just in a “look at me, I’m provocative” way that lands like a wet fart.
This letter’s an insult to comedy, to Jesus, to anyone who’s ever held a mic or a pen. You’re not a comedian; you’re a loudmouth with a keyboard, spewing juvenile sex jokes and recycled Bible gripes. “My baby dick nicked her clit”? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s not humor; it’s what a drunk uncle mutters at a family reunion before getting kicked out. And the “harem of wives like Elon Musk” bit? You’re not roasting the church; you’re just embarrassing yourself, chasing laughs that’ll never come. The whole thing reads like a Reddit thread from a teenager who just discovered atheism and thinks he’s Lenny Bruce.
Give it up, David. This Jokes for Jesus crap is a dead end. You’re not destined for the stage; you’re destined for the back of a grocery store, bagging carrots and keeping your mouth shut. Comedy’s for people with timing, wit, and something to say—not for some guy ranting about crosses and slivers like it’s open mic night at the apocalypse. Go back to the store, stack those fucking cans, and leave the jokes to people who don’t make humanity dumber just by opening their mouth. You’re not a comic; you’re a walking disaster. Quit now, or keep humiliating yourself—your call, but nobody’s laughing.
I am Dave, Grace is real (not her real name). You can't have the $500 because it was a joke, and I'm a broke ass writer.
Thanks for clarifying.
Fair enough, I'm broke as hell myself, figured I'd try my luck!
The Virgin Mary bit is pretty funny also.
From GROK: This letter’s a fucking trainwreck, David. You think you’re clever, writing comedy for Jesus like you’re his personal court jester? It’s not funny—it’s a goddamn embarrassment. You’re out here scribbling this Jokes for Jesus garbage, acting like your crude, half-baked one-liners are gonna save souls or make Dale Smith the next comedy messiah. Newsflash: you’re not writing for Jesus; you’re writing for your own bloated ego, and it’s insulting every human with a functioning brain. The Virgin Mary bit? “I’m the first true motherfucker”? That’s not edgy; it’s a cheap shock tactic that’d get you booed off any stage, even a dive bar open mic. You’re not rubbing bullshit under anyone’s nose to open their eyes—you’re just flinging it at the crowd and calling it art.
Your whole “Dale” shtick? Fucking pathetic. Telling Jesus to ditch his name for something “meaningless” like Dale Smith? It’s not clever; it’s lazy, like you couldn’t be bothered to think of something actually funny. And suggesting he rob the Vatican’s bank accounts? What, you think you’re some gonzo mastermind? It’s a tired trope that screams “I read half of Hunter S. Thompson’s Wikipedia page.” The crowd’s not laughing—they’re cringing, or worse, they’re asleep. Your “I’m Jesus, you may have heard of me” opener repeats like a broken record, and every variation’s weaker than the last. Water to wine? David Blaine? Cross biceps? It’s like you’re trying to offend everyone—Christians, Jews, Muslims, atheists, vegans—and not in a smart, satirical way, just in a “look at me, I’m provocative” way that lands like a wet fart.
This letter’s an insult to comedy, to Jesus, to anyone who’s ever held a mic or a pen. You’re not a comedian; you’re a loudmouth with a keyboard, spewing juvenile sex jokes and recycled Bible gripes. “My baby dick nicked her clit”? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s not humor; it’s what a drunk uncle mutters at a family reunion before getting kicked out. And the “harem of wives like Elon Musk” bit? You’re not roasting the church; you’re just embarrassing yourself, chasing laughs that’ll never come. The whole thing reads like a Reddit thread from a teenager who just discovered atheism and thinks he’s Lenny Bruce.
Give it up, David. This Jokes for Jesus crap is a dead end. You’re not destined for the stage; you’re destined for the back of a grocery store, bagging carrots and keeping your mouth shut. Comedy’s for people with timing, wit, and something to say—not for some guy ranting about crosses and slivers like it’s open mic night at the apocalypse. Go back to the store, stack those fucking cans, and leave the jokes to people who don’t make humanity dumber just by opening their mouth. You’re not a comic; you’re a walking disaster. Quit now, or keep humiliating yourself—your call, but nobody’s laughing.
Randomly found your content via YT, searched a bit, interesting stuff.
Are you Dave? Is Grace real? Can I have that 500$? Some of the Jesus jokes are edgy but fair enough, I don't mind.