With Christmas coming up, I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus.
It’s Jesus’ birthday, right? That’s why we do the damn thing!
My favorite thing to do on Christmas is to find people whose birthday is on Christmas. When everyone starts to sing happy birthday to you, I chime in and say “Oh, is Jesus here?” Good times, but if you want to give it a go, make sure it isn’t actually Jesus. Because if it is, you better have two separate gifts and they better be good. If I learned anything from the Bible, it’s that no one double gifts Jesus without having their soul ravished by the Dark Lord.
I’d like to meet Jesus someday, and not in a “hey what’s up? Enjoy your eternity in Hell” sort of way. He seems like a cool guy and he definitely has some good ideas. If I do meet him, I’ve definitely got some questions.
For how conservative everyone says Jesus is, you’d think he’d go with a more clean-cut look than a beard, long hair and sandals. Ever heard of a barber and closed toed shoes ya’ hippie? He looks like some guy who would try to sell you nitrous at Bonnaroo and then attempt to lick your face.
Jesus-“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, stop commenting on my status, and stop putting David after Dentist on my wall. That came out like forever ago, seriously.”
GOD-“Oh what? I can’t have a Facebook? I’M GOD.”
I’m curious what he thinks about Christian “metal.” I never thought Jesus to be much of a metal head, definitely more of a bob your head kind of guy…maybe some Jack Johnson or some Bob Marley. Metal and Jesus don’t mix to me, regardless of how much you spent on your Jesus’ sleeve. If you’ve ever seen a Christian metal band, they always dedicate their songs to Jesus. A little presumptuous if you ask me.
Happy Birthday dOOd!
If you haven’t heard about this, NYU professor Wafaa Bilal had a camera surgically implanted in the back of his skull.
At one point in his interview on CNN, he was asked if he was going to have sex with the camera on…and he said yes.
I hate to break it to you guy, but I doubt anyone is going to want to have sex with you ever again. I’d have to assume having a camera installed in the back of your head is a bit of a deal breaker.
I don’t claim to be an expert on what women want, but I’m sure “having camera implanted in skull” shows up on their turn-offs list somewhere between rat tails and eye hair.
So, let me get this straight: This woman had sex with a gecko that wasn’t the Geico gecko?
It’s not even like that Gecko pretended he was the Geico one; she knew full well that this was just an ordinary gecko and appears to have had actual feelings for him.
I’d understand if she had sexed the gecko from Geico. I mean, come on, he’s famous AND he has a British accent; he’s practically irresistible.
But just some rando gecko? Come on lady, have some self-respect.
“Well, that was a pretty good kick. He’s pretty deep in the end zone; I’ll be really surprised if he even returns it. Oh well, here he comes. What an idiot! We’ve got the whole field covered! He’s not even going to make it to the 15! Wow, nice move, but it’s ok, we have three more guys over there. Well one guy now…shit…he’s so fast. Oh God, what did I do?! Do I kick him? Is that allowed? I don’t even have leg pads on! Ok, don’t panic. I don’t want to get hurt, so here’s what I’ll do. I’ll just run near him and when he gets close, I’ll dive on the ground like I was actually trying to tackle him and violently bang my head off the ground.”
Wow, that was a fun threesome! It was significantly less awkward than I thought it would be considering my friend and I were having sex with the same girl simultaneously. So, what do you guys wanna do no…oh, you two aren’t finished. I’ll just get dressed…hey, can you move your knee? You’re on my shirt. K, thanks. I’m kind of hungry, I’ll just get something to eat. Hey umm…sorry, I forgot your name, how embarrassing! Do you mind if I have some of these Pop Tarts? Ok well, I’m just gonna have some. Sorry to bother you again, where did you keep the toaster? Hello? Fine. You’re not being a very good host even if your mid-coitus, so I’m just going to leave. Damnit…John! Your car is blocking mine in the driveway.”
Oh sh*t, I have adult braces.
“You know, when everyone was getting braces in middle school, I felt blessed that I didn’t have to get them. In hindsight, I wish I had, because I wouldn’t have them now and I would be happy. It wasn’t like I was getting laid back then anyways; perhaps I would have missed on some make-out sessions, but that wouldn’t have been that bad. Now, you’d think ‘Hey, I’m 40! A lot of things may happen today, but one of them is probably not me getting braces.” Well, you’d be fucking wrong. Would I like some of those Skittles? I actually would, but I can’t, because I have braces and Skittles are on the no-no list. Would I like an apple? Yes, that would be nice, but can you cut them into wedges please? This is really going to improve my already dormant sex life. I’m sure my wife is thinking ‘geez, our sex life became a lot less active after the kids and my husband’s weight gain, but now that he has a bunch of metal in mouth with Cheetos stuck in it like an 8th grader, things are hotter than ever!’ “
“WOOOOO! Let’s take shots everyone! Don’t be a pussy dude, take it! Ugh…that did not go down right. Come on, don’t do this…oh god, this is going to happen. Just sneak off to the bathroom, don’t be obvious but be swift. Ahhh…that felt better. Let me just get cleaned up…rinse my mouth out and chew some gum, no one will even notice. Oh, where did I go? Just to the bathroom, no big deal. Why are my eyes watery? Did I yak? No man! I just really had to pee, and I was so relieved when I finally did that I started crying. Let’s do another one!”
I hate talent shows. Not the ones for kids, those are funny. I mean talent shows for adults and older teenagers. Anytime I’ve watched one on television, I felt bad for the majority of the contestants and had to turn it off.
There’s a difference between being talented and having a talent. If someone is talented, they can go somewhere with it besides winning a talent show. If someone with a really beautiful voice sang during a talent show, I’d be really impressed. But after the talent show is over, they can continue to progress with their voice and try to make it to the next step.
While watching a talent show, I find myself thinking little about the talent itself and more about how much effort went into developing it. That’s why talent shows depress me.
Baton twirling, for instance. I get that it takes a lot of practice and creating a routine is tedious, but why? Why are you a veteran baton twirler? You’ve put time into twirling a stick and dancing.
I’m not saying that baton twirling is easy; I’m saying it’s pointless and devoid of value.
Can I twirl a baton? No. Can I throw a baton really high in the air, do a round-off and catch it in stride? Maybe. But the time frame I would commit to learning to do so wouldn’t exceed 10 minutes because it’s THROWING A STICK IN THE AIR.
Think about how much time it would take to perfect a baton twirling routine. The actual passing of time you’d have to put in to land that back handspring/high stick throw maneuver. You’re going to die someday and instead of living your life, you’re playing with a fancy stick and doing cartwheels like an asshole.
Anyone in a relationship or who has been in a relationship knows that a great deal of fights are started because of a simple text. It’s not there’s anything malicious about the text itself, it’s that the person on the receiving end misinterpreted its tone. I’ve done this myself on numerous occasions.
Since there’s no kind of tone-indicator on a text message, this problem is one that doesn’t seem to be going away. Here’s the 5 most misconstrued texts by people in a relationship.
Misinterpreted Meaning: THAT’S JUST FINE! Let’s just do what you want, because that’s all we ever do. I mean, why would I want us to do something that I enjoy, for once? That would just be selfish and bring me some happiness, so why would we want to do that? Let’s just do what you want, and I’ll be fine.
Intended Meaning: Hey, could you hold on for just a second? I’m currently doing something that only allowed me enough time to say hold on, but I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you. Once I complete this task, I’ll explain what I was doing and we can talk.
Misinterpreted Meaning: Will you give me just one second, for the love of God?! I have a life of my own, you know. I have things that I like to do, and I can’t just answer your texts all the time. I will get back to you when I get the chance, so just chill out and I’ll talk to you then.
Misinterpreted Meaning: OK God, I get it. You just don’t stop, do you? You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.
Intended Meaning: I really don’t have strong feelings for or against what you’re saying, so I don’t really mind. The time you want to leave for that thing or the restaurant you want to go to is fine. Thanks for asking if it was OK with me, I really appreciate it but it’s up to you, as I have no preference or better suggestions.
Misinterpreted Meaning: Whatever, I don’t give a shit. I hate you and this relationship is boring and every time I see you I’m sad. The best time of my day is the time between the time you text me and when I actually see you, because you’re not there and I don’t have to talk to you.
Intended Meaning: I’m in a situation where I can’t use my phone. I’ll explain when I’m in a position to explain it, either by call or text. Miss you! Kisses!
Misinterpreted Meaning: Listen, I can’t use my phone when I’m having sex with other people and doing the drugs I told you I’d never do. Once I pay this girl and finish my crystal meth, I’ll hit you up. Peace.