Sunday, December 23, 2007

Untitled #23

Hey, have you heard? It's Christmas time in Hollis, Queens and also in the area I live in. If you look around, I bet it's Christmas time where you live, too. As Mike Huckabee reminds us, the baby Jesus is the reason for the season. God Damn, that guy loves Jesus, mostly on account of Jesus scaring all the extra fat out of his body, but also because he's our Savior and shit. All of us have our favorite Jesus story, and I'm certainly no exception. Mine is this one:
When he hit 48 home runs in one baseball game then he turned some dirt into cocaine and partied like it was the fucking Rapture.
I didn't think of that one, this guy I worked with wrote it in his Myspace, but as it turns out, you can't link to Myspace comments, so I'm quoting it in full here on a proper Web log. Anyway, you have to admit, this Jesus story kicks all the other Jesus stories' asses. I mean, can you imagine how pure that cocaine must have been? Even Robert Evans would be impressed. Then he would have signed Jesus to a multi-picture deal right before getting him laid.

On the serious side, I'm finding my need for ceremony grows stronger with each passing day, and damn it all, the humanists don't have shit to offer in that area. And I like the humanists. I can hang with them, they're usually up on all the latest gadgets and tend to share my political beliefs. Sadly, they're boring as shit and a bit sanctimonious. I'm a card-carrying agnostic (no, I won't show it to you, I was hung over that day and I look like shit) and agnostics are like anarchists in that they don't really have a lot to rally around. The symbolism is sorely lacking, although I'm stumping for an equivalent to the sign of the cross, which would be a simple shoulder shrug. If we're really feeling the agnostic spirit, we'd throw in a head cocked to the side and a closed mouth smile signifying our utter confusion. Instead of "Hallelujah," we'd sing "Who the fuck knows!?"

The new job goeth well so far. It's easy, for one thing, and telecommuting is nice. The money is ridiculous for what I'm doing, it's almost twice as much as I was making at the old coalmine.

Eh, I'm getting bored with typing. Merry Christmas, internet. Here's hoping you get everything you asked for.

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