Sergeant: “Texas?! There are only two types from Texas, boy, steers and queers. Which are you?”
Private Joker: “Queer.”
Sergeant: “All right then.”
This is a true story.
In the old days wealthy estates would set up a Hermitage. In the hermitage would live one hermit. The Hermitage would be set up on the outskirts of the estate, probably near the entrance. Visitors entering the estate would be able to see the Hermitage, and possibly the hermit, actively pursuing the hermit lifestyle. But they would not speak to the hermit for the hermit was paid to hermit.
Modern life is different. But the same.
“CHRISTIAN, n. One who believes that the New Testament is a divinely inspired book admirably suited to the spiritual needs of his neighbor. One who follows the teachings of Christ in so far as they are not inconsistent with a life of sin.”
Excerpt From: Ambrose Bierce “The Devil’s Dictionary” 1906
A few days ago I went to one of the local marijuanna outlets and bought some cannabis infused ginger cayenne cream.
A year ago I hurt my foot bicycling and it has since been examined x-rayed and pronounced afflicted with neuroma, nerve pain. According to bicycling magazine website, a common bicycling injury.
So I bought cannabis cream.
And I have rubbed it into the small area afflicted. And it seems to be having an effect.
For one thing, my foot now smells like cannabis.
*May also be decreasing pain.
Professional wrestler “Rowdy” Roddy piper came to my high school to speak to my world problems class. He gave a long blustering right wing tirade.
He was there to talk about his expertise vis-a-vis violence in society. He did not come in his work clothes but dressed in jeans and a dress-shirt. On the wall was a signed photo of the teacher’s hero: Ronald Reagan.
He did bring his rasslin’ bluster, somewhat toned down, as he launched into a tirade about how society was too lenient on youth and other crimes. As he worked himself into a boil he finally reached his crescendo with a statement that people should be beaten and shot for petty crimes and hijinks. The room laughed at him. He was taken aback and growled, “You laugh because none of you have ever been shot!” And the laughter exploded. You could barely hear him protest, “If any of you had ever been shot you wouldn’t be laughing.” He had the room rolling in the aisles.
In the center of the room, laughing, was a guy in a leg cast. He had been shot.
After Piper left, the teacher, a friend of Piper, gave a long blustering speech about how we were mean to Rowdy Roddy Piper.
I know what you’re saying. Roddy Piper died today. This is a terrible memorial. But I enjoyed the film They Live; just not as much as Hell Comes to Frogtown.
I know there hasn’t been a podcast episode in three weeks. My apple-ologies.
Some Christian bakers who open bakeries to sell cake do not want to sell cake to gay customers. Picky, picky, picky.
What makes evangelical Christians go into cake businesses anyway? Is it that much of a rush to deny cake to people? Evangelical Cakegasm.
“Follow our rules or no one gets cake” will never work. The code for cake was cracked long ago. Now anyone can make it. (Cake has risen.)
Forbidden cake tastes just like cake. You can’t fool me. With cake.
You know, the gays have actually perfected cake. And they will let anyone eat gay cake.
What would happen if an evangelical Christian accidentally ate some gay cake?
Do not even get me started on evangelical hardware store owners. Selectively selling tools is not on the level.
This is my official stance on Bill Cosby:
I never enjoyed Bill Cosby.
His act always put me to sleep.
Due to the heat I have written you a poem:
All the fishes in the sea have sent a letter addressed to me. Mostly they were just interested in saying “hi” but also expressing a wish that we eat more pie. For the best pies are made from the fruit of the trees and do not contain anything which swims in the seas. I wrote them back to ask “Why me?” And they said, “We got your name from a bumblebee.”
“Ah,” said I, “I know it* well.”
“Yes,” said the fishes, “It said you were really swell.”
Cherry is my favorite of all pies. Do not tell the other pies.
Magic fishes grant wishes. They grant only one due to austerity. So whatever you wish for say it with clarity.
(* Bumblebee neither a he nor a she but a drone. And we all drone on. Like the sea, and the stars, and the sun.)
I have a rabbit on each shoulder. I know what you’re thinking: “One is good one is evil.” But you’re wrong. They’re both evil.
They are both white rabbits and they get a lot of mileage out of this. There is a certain trust engendered in the white rabbit by society, as people are trained from an early age to follow them wherever they may lead without asking any questions, even if we all end up in a bunker far underground.
It makes me hopping mad!
But I always feel I am running late and that time is running out and I need to hop to it.
And it does nothing for my nerves, these rabbits, hopping up and down on my shoulders, as if every day and night were a rabbit holiday.
Do not even get me started about the bird on my head.