11 reviews by Kirk Cameron..
T2: Judgement Day

2011-12-01
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: Don't make me choose between you and God, Joanna, because that is not a contest you can win. I know I want to be with you, but now I'm not sure why, anymore. I thought it was love, in a weird way, but now, after reading your hateful comments I just think it is pure lust that is driving me towards you. If that was really the way you feel, there is no need to contact me further. I have called the pastor of my church over tonight so he and I can have an all-night prayer session to help me figure things out. I'll never choose you over the Lord, but I can't go on like this, either. I told Chelsea about the feelings I have for you, I even told her about the underwear. Being a stronger person than I, she burned them in our fireplace, "casting them into hell" she called it. And I think she was right. Whether you are really a woman born of another woman or a succubus as I had long suspected, I don't know, but your comments have made it clear to me that you are a test. God is testing me through your unwitting body. Unfortunately, only He knows the answer I must make. I will pray for you, too, tonight Joanna. My penis is so raw right now from masturbating that it is hard for me to concentrate...I'm, I'm just so sorry you came back into my life after all these years. And I am most sorry that I still want you so bad even now. How many lives have you destroyed? I can't let myself or Chelsea be your next victim, but you're...you're so beautiful, Joanna.

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-12-01
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: Joanna, I will thank you not to contact me anymore through this site or any other means, and I promise to do the same. After a long night of prayer, I have decided to put all of my energies in resisting your sexual wiles. I have reconciled emotionally, spiritually, and, yes, physically with my beautiful wife, Chelsea. She has agreed, for the sake of our love and our children's wellbeing, to help me through this dark hour. I have agreed to go with her to a faith-based marriage counselor as well as a Bible-centered sex addiction clinic located in scenic eastern Tennessee. I realize that it was I who last solicited you, and for that I am sorry, Joanna. You have your own demons, I know, and though you believe them to be figurative demons and not actual demons that are literally probing your vagina as you sleep each night, I hope you that you will seek out some kind of treatment. You turned your back to God some time ago, that much is clear, but it was, and is, your choice to make. You will regret it someday, Joanna. You may like a life of seemingly carefree fornication now, but in the fiery depths of Hell you will be raped repeatedly by demons and other creatures to horrible even to describe. The only comfort you will have is knowing that you won't be alone; every woman who has ever had an abortion or a child out of wedlock will be there, too, along with anyone who has ever had sex while their dog watched them and myriad other irredeemable reprobates cast into those eternal flames. I say that only as a warning to you, Joanna, so when you are cast down into Hell you can't say that you weren't forewarned of your fate. I will continue to pray for your salvation, both from Hell and from a promiscuous lifestyle that you know brings you no real happiness. Goodbye forever, Joanna. You shall tempt me no more!

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-11-30
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: Joanna! Joanna, are you there? I can't stop thinking about you! Day and night I think of you. Every time I close my eyes I see you sweet, angelic face. Worst of all, even as my beautiful Chelsea is receiving my seed upon our marriage bed, it is you that fills my thoughts. You fill me as I fill poor Chelsea and I can't help but fear that I am wishing that it was you under me! It is horrible! It is Growing Pains all over again! What are you doing to me?

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-11-30
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: I don't see what the problem is, Joanna. I'm not a little boy anymore, I'm a grown man now. A grown man who can't stop thinking about you. A grown man that wants nothing more than to climb all over your still taut body and to flesh your naked flesh again my own. You've held my throbbing member in your hands before, are you not curious about how it would feel filling your very womb to the hilt? If your reluctance is because of Chelsea, that is no problem, either, for I am still a Christian man and would have to divorce her and marry you before we could consummate our love physically. I am willing to do those things for you, Joanna. Even as you were molesting Jeremy, I knew it was me you really wanted. We both know that to be true. As I've said before, I can't stop thinking about you, about being with you. So I give up. I'm willing to turn my back on everything in my life other than God for you. We can start a new life together if you wish it, but all this uncertainty is destroying me, Joanna. I'm not as strong a man as I should be, I know, but you have brought me to my knees once more. I thought of you all last night, Joanna, and I masturbated in the bathroom thinking of you. I hadn't masturbated for years, but I just couldn't help it. Poor Chelsea was watching TV just feet away as I defiled myself and spilled my seed into a wad of toilet paper. I cried afterwards and it was obvious to Chelsea that I had been, but I couldn't tell her the truth, Joanna. I will always love Chelsea and I don't want to hurt her, but it is obvious that she is not the woman you are. Do you know what brought about my relapse into the self-polluting vice of masturbation, Joanna? Years ago, during the first year of Growing Pains, I went to your trailer to go over some of our lines. You weren't there, but as I turned to leave I noticed a pair of your underwear lying crumpled on the floor. I could not stop myself from picking them up...I, I just couldn't stop. They were white with tiny blue flowers printed on them and they were made from the softest cotton I had ever held in my hands. Inspecting them thoroughly, I noticed faint stains in the crotch of the underwear. I didn't truly know yet what I was looking at, but I became aroused as I never had before, the denim of my jeans struggling to contain my erect penis. Controlled by a power I could not resist, I lifted that stained fabric to my nose and, for the first time in my life, I smelled a woman. Then, holding that same yellowed fabric in front of my mouth I, with the tip of my tongue, tasted a woman. Intoxicated by the sensuous delights left by your womanhood on the inside of your underwear, I climaxed violently. By this time the head of my penis had pushed itself above the waistband of my jeans and thus, to my horror, the front of my shirt and my jeans were soon tainted by the warm jets of my base pleasures. I ran from the trailer as fast as I could, crying all the way. As soon as I got to my own trailer, I slammed the door behind me and locked it, fearful that someone would find out what happened and shameful over what I and God knew had happened. Several minutes more of quiet sobbing passed by before I realized that I was still clutching your underwear in my hand. Panic-stricken, I hid them in a drawer and cleaned myself up as best I could. Afterward, I went to return the underwear but you were back in your trailer by this time, so I had no choice but to throw the panties away somewhere. Yet I couldn't bring myself to do it. Perhaps I could destroy them, burn them? I could not. So, I rented out a safety deposit box and sealed them up inside, I thought for forever. But yesterday, yesterday Joanna, I found myself opening that safety deposit box and retrieving your underwear after all these years. I hurried home and, because I had placed them inside of a zip-lock bag, I soon discovered that faint traces of your wonderful smell and taste remained on the fabric. That was when I broke down and touched myself for the first time in many years. I'm telling you this, Joanna, as something of a confession, but also as proof of my everlasting attraction (obsession?) with you. I will do anything you need, just tell me what you want from me. Goodbye, beautiful Joanna.

Rating: n/a


Great Football

2011-11-18
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: Mr. Sandusky, you are an abomination in the eyes of God. What you have done to those children is unconscionable and unforgivable in the eyes of your fellow man. The only One who would ever forgive you is the Lord, so I suggest to you that you seek his forgiveness as soon as possible. Nothing can keep you out of prison, know that much, but God can help to save your eternal soul if you earnestly ask for forgiveness and for the healing of your victim's physical and psychological wounds.

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-11-03
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: Are you using drugs again, Joanna? I know the years of the show when you were on angel dust were some of your most creative, but it did seem to bring out the worst in you as well. Judging by your sacrilegious and racial insensitive comments, I can only assume that you are on drugs again. Most Mexicans are kind-hearted and industrious people, Joanna. Good, honest, and God-fearing people, too. I know you are just writing these things to upset me and to get a reaction from me. I guess you always get what you want, don't you Joanna? Well, not always. You weren't able to steal my innocence the way you have done to so many other boys. Whether you will ever find the Lord I don't know, but if you do it should be from inside a prison cell. You are a sexual predator, Joanna. You use men up and then throw them away, and the younger the better it would seem. You will have to answer for the things you have done, regardless of what you think. I escaped your clutches, Tracey escaped eventually, as did Jeremy, though he still seems to be almost intoxicated by your charms at times. You truly are a latter-day Jezebel. How many lives have you destroyed. I know you tried to rape me, Joanna. You thought I was unconscious that day in my trailer. You thought the pain-killers I had taken after my root canal had knocked me out, but I was awake. I pretended to be asleep hoping that you would just go away, but we both know what you did. I should have gone to the police, but I was afraid of what you would do. I realized, too, that no one would believe me, that no one would believe I wouldn't have wanted it. But I felt you unzip my jeans and I felt your soft yet oddly cold hands as they played up and down over my manhood. Boyhood, really. I know that when I became aroused by your touch you must have counted that as one of your victories, one of your conquests, another trophy for the mantle of perversion that must exist in your mind. But you failed, Joanna, you failed as evil always does in the end. When you climbed on top of me and tried to mount me, I was truly afraid, and I know it must gladden your black heart to read that, but my salvation that day came in the form of my beloved sister, Candace. Just as the delicate hairs of your nether places began to tease the head of my turgid member, Candace knocked at my trailer door to check up on me and see how I was doing. That was what people who truly care about one another behave. It is sad that you can never know that kind of relationship with another person, so complete is your narcissism. Regardless, hearing the knocking and my sister's voice through the door, you roughly shoved my "thing" back into my jeans and I could then hear you frantically putting your own clothes back on. I know I shouldn't tell you this part, but between the tickling of your abortive mounting and the brusque manhandling of my penis, I spilled my seed inside my pants just as you zipped them back up. You know the rest, of course: you invited Candace in and played the role of concerned friend. The lies, Joanna, the lies! How you pretended to be my friend at that moment is almost as upsetting as what you had tried to do to me just moments before. You are a sick woman and you need help. I ask of you to seek the Lord in this, but it would be a good start for you to seek any sort of professional help. If not, you should be locked away, frankly. It is sad for me to say this, even after what you've done, and tried to do, to me. I will thank you not to contact me again.

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-11-01
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: I thought I had heard the last of you, you vile temptress! You know full well that I had already given myself over to Christ by the time we ever met. Was I not always complaining to the show's producers to tone down the smut, like when Mike was working at that fictional fast food restaurant? They had me say "welcome to the World of Burgers, and as we say at W.O.B. 'don't get any on you!'" to customers. Customers! It goes without saying that this almost pornographic line was a clear allusion to oral sex, and while our audience may have been amused by the image that this "joke" put in their heads, namely that of a kneeling woman with a semen-stained blouse gasping for air, you know that I was not amused by it. You also know that I grew to hate "Growing Pains" almost as much as I hate sin. As far as I'm concerned, only two positive things came from my time on the show. The first is that I met my beautiful wife, Chelsea. The second is that, though various circumstances, I was driven much closer to the Lord during my time on the show. I guess, in some way, I have to thank for the latter, Joanna. It was your constant sexual harassment of me that led to my struggle with compulsive masturbation. I knew it was wrong to touch you or let you touch me, but I did not yet know what a horrible affront to God self-pollution was. I can't even count how many times I would awake in my trailer covered in my own semen. After a few months, my fear of being discovered led to me eating my own semen to hide my sinful secret from my friends, my family, and the Mexican lady that did the laundry. This was for me, though, rock bottom, because I could not hide what I was doing from the Lord. He saw every stroke and every gulp of my sin. And he forgave me...I, too, have come to forgive you, Joanna, for all the times you tried to manipulate me. I know what you did to Jeremy, too. He always made it seem like it was the greatest thing to ever happen to him, but I know now that his incessant bragging and high-fiving of people was just him putting on a brave face in defiance of your molestation. One day, I may forgive you for what you did to him, too. The grace of God has also allowed me to forgive Tracey Gold for what she did to Jeremy and Alan. No one has ever fully explained to me what "spit-roasting" is, but I am forever thankful to have not been subjected to her wiles, or that of her sister, Missy. I don't have to tell you about the stories that floated around the set when both of them were around! Not just around the set, either. Something about trains? Anyway, I don't really appreciate you contacting me, Joanna. If you do so again, make sure it is through my lawyer as was our agreement. I know your probation is now over, but I would ask that you respect the spirit and not the letter of that arrangement. I will, however, never hate you, Joanna, though I fear you may be a succubus. If not, you should accept Christ into your heart. All of your sins (such as your private "acting lessons") would be forgiven, just as mine were back when I would think about you and touch myself. Goodbye, Joanna.

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-11-01
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: First of all, it's the Christmas season, not the "holiday" season! Second, my marriage to Chelsea has never been stronger than it is now. Don't believe everything you hear, especially from the liberal news media. They will do anything to tear down the lives of good Christian men such as myself, Herman Cain, or even Rick Perry. Yes, it's true, they will go after a man with as much integrity and character as Rick Perry! Third, I know in my heart that you are not the person you want yourself to be. When I was helping Tracey though some of her life trials, she confessed to me many of the painful secrets that dwell in her past. She told me about the homosexual affair that the two of you had and she revealed that you had confided in her the fact that you were molested by an uncle when you were twelve. While no one can deny that twelve year old girls are very attractive sexually, what he did to you, Joanna, was unconscionably wrong, but unfortunately you have allowed his wickedness to control your own life and shape your interactions with others. Sex is not love, Joanna. Sex is not affection or support or anything else of substance. Sex is a way to produce children and a way for women and gay men to destroy the lives of decent but weak-willed men such as Ted Haggard. If only I had known your secret when we were working together. I had hoped maybe you had dealt with your problems over these long years since "Growing Pains" went off the air and all of our lives went to crap except Leonardo DiCaprio. While it cannot excuse your ultimate harlotry with regard to the awful things you did to Jeremy and Andrew, the fact that you yourself fell afoul of the vile seductions of an older man and were thus influenced by this diddling of your private areas means that you are fully capable of receiving the forgiveness and grace of the Lord God. I can scarcely imagine the horrible things that your uncle must have done to you, but Chelsea has tried to make it very clear to me that there are a lot of men out there that want to do much more to a woman than produce children with her. The things she described, the probings and lickings and suckings, made me so sick that I vomited the evil thoughts right out of my body and onto our marriage bed. But, poor Chelsea! Poor, poor Chelsea! She was so affected by these lurid and perverse notions of sexuality that the cried and cried, but not out of her eyes, no! She cried from the depths of her very womb! She cried thusly so much that she had to change her underwear several times that night in between long trips to the bathroom for what I assume to be bouts of vomiting similar to mine. She is a strong, brave Christian woman and she tried to hide her suffering by turning on some device that made a loud humming noise, but I could hear her anguished moans from behind the bathroom door. "Oh, God! Oh, God!", she would cry out, again and again, supplicating herself to her Lord in her moment of need. Did He answer? "Yes! Oh, yes!", she would invariably cry out in the end! She had found release from her troubles once more! You, too, could know such a wonderful feeling as that must be for Chelsea. I hope you find the help you need soon, Joanna, whatever the source because, as Jeremy has pointed out to me on numerous occasions, you're fast becoming a "used up skank" (his words). I did not know your role in the writers making me say that awful line of dialogue, but it hardly surprises me. You wrong me in other ways, not necessarily the way you really wanted, but you did wrong me. I forgive you for all of that. Now you need to forgive your uncle for rubbing your ya-ya or whatever and then, only then, will you be able to come to terms with what you've done to others. Eventually, you'll forgive yourself, too, with the Lord's help. Have a merry CHRISTMAS, Joanna.

Rating: n/a


T2: Judgement Day

2011-10-29
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: This is not the Judgment Day you should be worrying about, Brad. If you are watching pornography, and We know from your comments that you are, you need to be worrying about eternal damnation and the horrid, everlasting fires of Hell! Seeing Linda Hamilton's teats is NOT okay, Brad. Regardless of what the mainstream media may be telling you, nudity IS pornography. The only time it is okay for a man to see a woman naked is on their wedding night. The only time it is okay for a man to see another man naked is NEVER! That will inevitably, invariably lead you down the lonesome road to that most foul of abominations: sodomy. I know that the mainstream media and much of popular culture nowadays is telling you that it's "cool" to be gay, but I assure you it is not! Let me ask you this: who or what are you really touching when you defile yourself in the shower or in your bed at night? I'm talking here of self-abuse, Brad, what you may know as "masturbation"? Who are you touching, Brad? Give up? I'll tell you: a man. You are touching a man's penis and don't make the mistake of thinking that it is okay just because it is your own penis. It is not. It is homosexual behavior, Brad, and it will earn you a place in the Lake of Fire. I know that the gay rights agenda of the mainstream media and Hollywood have deluded you into thinking that masturbation is healthy and normal, but it is NOT. I don't do it. I never did it. I may have punched a lot of hole in walls growing up out of some sort of hormonal frustration and the near constant presence of what the World calls "blue balls", but that was merely a test and I passed every time. You need to pass those tests, too. Repent of the sins you've committed and then stop committing new ones. It really isn't that hard, Brad. No pornography, no masturbation, certainly no sex outside of marriage. I guess what I'm saying is, you need to marry the first woman that will have you and then have sex with her as much as procreative sex will allow.

Rating: n/a


Global Gladiators

2011-08-13
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: You seem to know much about homosexuals, Paul...a little too much if you ask me! Repent, Paul, seek forgiveness and receive it, receive it as easily as you receive another man's seed in a bathhouse or a port-o-potty at an Elton John concert. Sure, I like Rocket Man, but I don't like penises and I don't like eternity in the fires of Hell. Neither should you, Paul, but know that however much I hate your sin, I love you and want to help you.

Rating: n/a


Smurfs

2006-08-24
From: Kirk Cameron
Comments: Good Heavens! You think I don't know what all that means? I've watched the Smurfs, buddy. I've also been around Hollywood enough to know sexual innuendo when I read it. You need help, friend, a great deal of help. To be able to think up such things in the first place is a vile, almost unspeakable sin. You're not fooling anybody with the "smurfed" this, "smurfed" that stuff. It's sick. I mean, really, "she finally let me smurf her in her smurf"? That's about sodomy and IT IS SIN! And, "smurfed all over her face"? I know what that means, too. I actually did that once to my beautiful wife Chelsea, but it was an accident, a horrible accident. We were making love within the context of our faith-filled man/woman marriage when the phone rang. Thinking it might be a lost soul that I could share my faith with, I immediately got up to answer. I as climbed away from Chelsea's warm, faith-affirming embrace, the pleasure derived from our loving bond proved too great and my seed was spilt upon my wife's perplexed, upturned face. THE HORROR OF IT! We both cried for hours after that. We cried. Then we prayed. We prayed for forgiveness of our sin, however unintentional, and we prayed for the unborn children that found representation in the wasteful spurts of my seed that rained down on Chelsea's face, matting her hair and flowing in small rivulets into her mouth and onto her breasts, befowling the very teats from which our many children have drawn sustenance. The shame endures to this day, a shame brought back to the for as I read through the veritable litany of unspeakable sex acts put forth here within the thin veneer of an children's cartoon show. You have defiled the Smurfs, Peter, and you surely could not have too much respect for yourself to write such horrid words. It boggles my mind to think about how a person such as you can think up such garbage, and believe you me, my mind isn't easy to boggle due unburdoned as it is with no actual religious knowledge or training. Nevertheless, you must REPENT for the evil you placed here, Peter. You must accept Christ as you Savior before it is too late. He is the only one who can help you. So too is he the only one that may know what you meant by "finger-smurf" and "eat her smurf". I can come up with no explanation for the former, but I fear the latter is a reference to that most unspeakable and ungodly of acts: cannibalism. How else could you "eat" some part of a woman? It is best not to think of such things, but my lovely Chelsea cannot get her mind off of that monstrous phrase. Perhaps she fears being "eaten" herself. Shame on you! Please, Peter, seek help and the the Way and the Light of ultimate Truth. Start out by visiting my website, www.wayofthemaster.com

Rating: n/a