Odds And Ends
I have had several people tell me that my foul and inconsiderate ramblings would be missed while I’m taking some time off. What can I say? I’m touched, and not in the Father Flanagan-behind-the-rectory-after-half-a-bottle-of-communion-wine kind of way. So, what the fuck, for those people I will cobble together a post that will hopefully please them as it simultaneously pisses off someone else, like the Catholic church.
Here’s a joke my good friend Squatch told me some years ago, one I was reminded of by my crass Father Flanagan/pedophilia joke just now. A man goes into confessional and confesses to the sin of having had oral sex with his wife.
“Oral sex?” thundered the priest. “Young man, that is a mortal sin! The Lord is displeased by all sex that cannot lead to procreation. It is an abomination! You are to say 25 Hail Mary’s, 25 Our Father’s, and you must attend Mass every day for a month to cleanse yourself of this foul and wicked sin!”
The man, shaken, steps out of the confessional and says aloud, “Man, I wonder what he gives for anal sex?”
A passing altar boy says, “Not much. Usually a pack of baseball cards and some candy.”
Squatch went to Catholic School, mind you, so he knows all the good Catholic jokes, including some that would get you chased down the block were you to repeat them in certain circles. (Such as: Jesus walks into a motel, slaps three nails on the counter and asks, “Could you put me up for the night?”)
Next, eagle-eyed reader, long time friend, and person I once did a one-hitter with in a dumpster (don’t ask), B’Homey sends in this excellent graphic which shows the dangers of casting Jesus in a modern way:
So now we know who Kenny was singing about in Your Momma Don’t Dance when he sang “Out of the car, long hair!”
More input from readers, this time from West Coast Goddess LA Juice who sends the following mind-blowing intro to Three’s Company:
Yes, that would be the unaired pilot episode of Three’s Company starring John Ritter, Norman Feld, Audra Lindley, and two young women who were probably giving very bitter and toothy blowjobs for cash on Sunset Strip when they were ultimately passed over for Joyce DeWitt and Suzanne Somers.
A few of other things of note: Everyone lives in what appears to be a hybrid between an apartment complex and a Taco Bell, John Ritter’s character is named David, and if the guy who “sang” the theme song were in my house right now, I would kick him in the balls so hard he’d have to part his hair to piss. Damn is that fucking annoying! “Doo-dee-doo-dee-doo-doooooo!” If someone pitched a show to me with that opening, I would have had them fucking tarred and feathered.
Finally, you may have noticed a few changes, the most obvious of which is that I’ve changed the banner that I’ve had for almost two years. There are (as of this writing) three banners that appear randomly: The colorful, two stoned dogs banner, the Hunter S Thompson banner, and the dog on cocaine banner. (Update: There are 4 banners now.) If you haven’t seen them all, hit refresh until you do. It drives the page hits up and makes me an assload of money from all the advertising, or at least it would if I accepted advertising.
That’s it! As you were.