A Warning

Sometimes I don’t know why I bother. I try to give you the most obvious of signs and yet you fools blatantly continue to ignore them.

In a gallant effort to warn you of what is to come, should you continue your procreation with those who I have deemed unworthy, I showed myself to you through an ultrasound of a testicle tumour.

G. G. Roberts and N. J. Touma from Ontario's Queen's University discovered my image while scanning the inflamed testicles of a 45-year-old patient. They described my expression as that of a man faced with great pain.

Idiots, you sound so shocked, how often have I told you of the anguish I face in trying to create my master race. Again and again I have warned you that my wrath will not forever be appeased and again and again you fail to take note. Of course my expression is of pain, you worthless fools have done nothing to please me.




"An expression of great pain"

 

As if your ignorance was not insult enough, you took it one step further by suggesting that this could be a gesture from the Egyptian god of male virility Min.

How dare you confuse me with my nemesis of the predynastic times! If you had seen the battles we used to have over his feeding the Egyptians the aphrodisiac long-leaf lettuce, you would not make this mistake so easily. How I loathed that smirk of his as he watched their minds turn to lustful mush as the long-leaf lettuce secreted its milky substance. I spent a great number of centenaries trying to undo the damage that so called ‘God’ had done.




Even Min's large phallus couldn't save him from my wrath

 But enough reminiscing, the prophet who I chose to bring this message to you has had the testicle removed and survives, what cannot be removed is the message that I send to you.

Stop with your fetishes. Stop with your stupidity. Acknowledge me as your one true God, for the time of reckoning draws near.

The Fetish Epidemic part I

BALA does not approve of healthy men with fat chick fetishes

I have a plan. Of course since I am the smartest thing to ever live, my plan is ingenious.
This plan is orchestrated to enable superior genetic matches between breeding couples to advance my species.
 

Unlike period England when I initiated plague #355, obesity is not an indication of wealth and status.

Bala did not create genetially superior male specimens for them to engage in lewd fornication with girthly hindered members of the opposite sex.

Fat admiring man, bala says no

When an acceptable match occurs, I dispise seeing the male craving the attention or retina filling experience of bulging oestrogen sacks.
This makes these "women" believe they are superior to other better looking oestrogen sacks, and even believe they can look down on (if their many chins allow for it) them. THIS DISPLEASES BALA.

It becomes a terrible Bala un-approved cycle whereby these obesely adipose filled female tissue masses will not loose weight due to their false sense of self esteem, desirability and superiority. All thanks to the men who garishly lust over the many rolls and caverns of the afforementioned fatties.

Specimen A: Confident oestrogen filled sac on bike

This attention spawns more confidence in their vast being and in fact can lead to increace in fatty tissue. When Bala's wishes are denied and these things breed, assuming they can carry a foetus to term without digesting it internally, the result and subsequent lardy upbringing is that an inferior and poorer genetic spawn of a human being exists.

Specimen 2: resultant offspring of unaproved coupling

In turn this decreases the solidarity of the Bala master race, watering it down with fat calls and depleting the natural resources of the planet I have so kindly lent you pathetic swines.

Specimen 3: Bala created resources, stop fucking wasting them!

In addition, Bala would have superior males know that he would prefer (if you MUST enagage in coitus with a non approved female) you to fornicate with farm animals as there is a much lower probability of reproduction.