Let's make money, honey.
Write a Holy Book, yuck yuck.
The Book of Bucks for Golden Star Sucks.
Sometimes soft, sometimes tough, Meyer's plea for money, like most things she does, is matter-of-fact and without apology.
"Some of you need to sow a special seed this weekend," Meyer told her Detroit audience. "Don't be a $10 man all your life. Don't even be a $100 man all your life. . . . You have to give sometimes until it hurts. It needs to cost you something."
Sometimes, she's more demanding.
"I don't have to stand here and beg," she told the crowd in Buffalo. "What God wants you to do here tonight is to pay for somebody else to watch my show."
Meyer told her Detroit audience about those who are unhappy with the way she pleads for money.
"People say, 'I don't want to hear about the money, the money, the money, the money. I came to hear Joyce. I didn't come to hear about the money,'" Meyer said. "Giving will change your life. When God gives you an increase, you give more."
Meyer often stands on stage hawking her products. In Atlanta, she held an enormous basket, overflowing with 50 of her books — "free" for a $1,000 offering.
She showed off new tape offerings packaged like suitcases. At one point, Meyer struggled to carry four of the massive tape cases, which sell for $110 apiece, across the arena stage.
"I need to see you leaving my meetings just like this," she said.
She pointed out that her audiotapes are cheaper than the $100 an hour that some professional counselors charge.
She told her flock in Buffalo that they have to stop being jealous of people like her who have nice things.
"Don't be jealous of what somebody's got," she said. "It's not about somebody getting your money. You need to give."
Labour Care? Nah! Health Care? Little Better!
Soul Care? Yeah! Soul Care! That's it. SOUL CARE.
Read from a book, deliver nothing. Spread fear.
Promise illusions and Eternal Life after your demise.
Sole care for own well fare.
Soul Care! The oldest business incentive.
Happy Good Friday.
Smell of fried fish from the neighbourhood in my nostrils.
It's Holy Frieday! Just another fire sacrifice. The fish heads. Stinky?