life's smartalecky answers
Everyday, I wish I had been more like Brett.
Would you like to hear about God’s gift for you?
Sorry, we've already got one. Please don't call here anymore.
How is your spiritual life?
It's a little unhealthy these days: not enough spiritual exercise, a little too much fried chicken for the soul.
Can I pray for you?
Just don't do it to a picture of me.
How’s your walk with God?
They're always kind of awkward. He doesn't initiate conversation, and he stares too much. I got him to stop trying to hold my hand, but he still insists on giving me piggyback rides whenever we're at the beach.
What Would Jesus Do?
Uh…I dunno. Die?
Well, he'd rise again!
Yeah......bastard
If you were to die today, where would you spend eternity?
Since this is an exercise in fantasy, let's go all the way. At this point, I take a deep drag off my cigarette and exhale it into the questioner's face. After he stops his hacking and little piggy wheezing, I make as though I'm about to answer. His watering eyes greedily bore into mine in anticipation of my reply. Instead, however, I ball up my fist and punch him in the crotch. Hard. As he writhes on the floor sweating and gasping, arms clamped tightly against his quivering gut as he tries quell his overwhelming nauseau, I jump into my sports car and drive off with my exotic swimsuit model/lawyer wife. Over the sound of the squealing tires, he strains his ears to catch anything, ANYTHING, I might deign to say. All he hears, though, is a single syllable of laughter which echoes in his head as unconsciousness overtakes him.
-Peace, love, and GAP
Would you like to hear about God’s gift for you?
Sorry, we've already got one. Please don't call here anymore.
How is your spiritual life?
It's a little unhealthy these days: not enough spiritual exercise, a little too much fried chicken for the soul.
Can I pray for you?
Just don't do it to a picture of me.
How’s your walk with God?
They're always kind of awkward. He doesn't initiate conversation, and he stares too much. I got him to stop trying to hold my hand, but he still insists on giving me piggyback rides whenever we're at the beach.
What Would Jesus Do?
Uh…I dunno. Die?
Well, he'd rise again!
Yeah......bastard
If you were to die today, where would you spend eternity?
Since this is an exercise in fantasy, let's go all the way. At this point, I take a deep drag off my cigarette and exhale it into the questioner's face. After he stops his hacking and little piggy wheezing, I make as though I'm about to answer. His watering eyes greedily bore into mine in anticipation of my reply. Instead, however, I ball up my fist and punch him in the crotch. Hard. As he writhes on the floor sweating and gasping, arms clamped tightly against his quivering gut as he tries quell his overwhelming nauseau, I jump into my sports car and drive off with my exotic swimsuit model/lawyer wife. Over the sound of the squealing tires, he strains his ears to catch anything, ANYTHING, I might deign to say. All he hears, though, is a single syllable of laughter which echoes in his head as unconsciousness overtakes him.
-Peace, love, and GAP
posted by Skim at Monday, November 27, 2006
1 Comments:
This post honestly made me laugh out loud -- the part where the guy leans over and punches the other guy in the crotch is just priceless -- and just in time for the holidays. Gives me some idea for those last few names on my list that I've been hard pressed to come up with something special for...
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