Hey Ephesians, how's it hanging?
Arrived in town late last night all set for some rounding up and persecution - you know the usual thing: torture, forced confessions, summary execution, yada-yada-yada, and what do you think happened? Struck blind by the Voice of God. I kid you not. Total bummer. Lucky there was this guy here, Ananias who took care of me, or I'd have been in a real fix. So afterwards, what do you think? The local officials come after me, and FOR THE EXACT SAME THING I CAME DOWN TO PERSECUTE! Irony City, am I right or am I right? Long story short, I fled while the fleeing was good. Now I'm just chillaxin', heading over to Asia Minor where I got this speaking gig lined up. Oh, by the way, I changed my name. From now on, instead of Saul of Tarsus, if you could call me Paul the Apostle, or just Paul for short. Thanks. Peace out.
XXX OOO
