Plague of Frogs

I apologize for the length, but you and I both know that it's not the first time in my life I've had to apologize for my length. *tips cap* Anyway, most of the bulkiness of this post I blame on the pictures. It's still a pretty quick read.

The scene opens upon an idyllic vista of clouds, blue skies, flower-strewn meadows, and soft, yellow sunlight shining down. A warm and gentle breeze blows in through the windows, tossing the sheers gently upon its freshly-scented streams.


Jesus: Oh, man, what a delicious breakfast! I sure do love bagels. I could eat those for...eternity! smacks lips And the orange juice this morning is simply divine! You know what? He leans forward and takes another sip, setting cup on the table and smiling You were truly inspired the day you made oranges, pops.


God the Father: Well, you know, I had a feeling. folds hands behind head and leans back, propping feet on the table Why they insist on still eating grapefruit down there when they've got perfectly good citrus fruit that doesn't taste like ass, I'll never know. And that's saying something, coming from me.


Jesus: Whistles, impressed I don't get it either. So...waves hand, breakfast dishes disappear...what's on the docket for today?


God the Father: I dunno. I'm thinking about stirring things up down there a bit. You know, shake the ant farm. See how they respond.


Jesus: Oh, another snow storm for the northeast? God the Father shakes his head Oh, you sly old fox, are we going to threaten snow in the southeast? Watch them lose their collective shit?


God the Father: Think more...international. More...in our backyard...


Jesus: We finally going to take down Ahmadinejad? Calls over shoulder Death!


Angel of Death: You rang?


God the Father: No, I was thinking something a little more fun than killing that bearded bag of gas.


Jesus: We're finally taking out Favre?


God the Father: No, nothing that direct. Just a little chaos, a little fun. I was thinking about doing something to Egypt.


Jesus: Egypt? But...why? Wait a minute! This isn't a hold over from that whole Pharaoh thing, is it?


God the Father: ...


Jesus: But I thought...points at either wrist...I thought you were over that.


God the Father: I have a long memory.


Angel of Death: Wait...is there anything I can do?


God the Father: Well, stay close. You know how the Egyptians are, always taking it to the next level. I'm sure you'll have something to do.





Jesus: Alright, then. We'll do Egypt, but you have to promise no smiting.


God the Father: ...


Jesus: Dad?


God the Father: ...


Jesus: I mean it.


God the Father: I make no promises.


Jesus: Fine!


Holy Spirit: thick Cockney accent Is there anything you need from me?


Jesus: Holy me! Will you stop sneaking up on people?


Holy Spirit: Sorry, it's in my job description. Besides, shouldn't you know where I am at all times?


Jesus: Look, I don't even let my right hand know what my left is doing. I don't have time to worry about what you are doing.


Holy Spirit opens his mouth, smug look on his face


Jesus: Don't you dare drag Mary Magdalene into this.


God the Father: Boys. stern look


Jesus and Holy Spirit: Together Yes, father.


God the Father: That's better. Now, let's start with a little civil unrest.


Jesus: Ah, chanting and sloganeering, the two signs of a good, unruly mob.


God the Father: And...cue the rocks.


Jesus: Things are getting a little rough down there. Oh, is that Anderson Cooper getting beat up?


God the Father: Let's see if he remembers who I am now...


Angel of Death: rubs hands together


God the Father: No, let's just put the fear of me into him. Ah, son, did you see that? Shit just got serious!


Jesus: You know things are getting hot and heavy when guys on camels wielding scimitars show up. Ah, this is good theatre! I haven't had this much fun since the sacking of Rome. rubs wrists Bastards got what they deserved...


Rumble from God the Father's side of the table


Jesus: Dad, no.


A brilliant flash of light from God the Father's side of the table. He emerges, wearing different clothes and looking cantankerous.


Jesus: You said you'd behave.


Old Testament God: I made no promises. Now, let's get down to some smiting! We're back in Egypt, where I've done some of my best work!


Jesus: No first born slaughter this time. You're God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, of all things seen and unseen! You're not Anakin Skywalker!


Old Testament God: Please. I make him look like the puss he is. Now--wiggles fingers--it's plague time! flips through rolodex How about--


Jesus: No.


Old Testament God: shoots Jesus a dirty look Okay, fine. What about--


Jesus: No!


Old Testament God: I see you're going to be difficult. How about...number two?


Jesus: You're set on this, aren't you?


Old Testament God: ...


Jesus: I can't believe you'd be so cruel as to do that to them. What did they ever do to you?


Old Testament God: Capturing and enslaving my people and being general bag of dicks wasn't enough for you? How about I remind you of Osiris, who basically copied your act but without your special flare for the dramatic.


Jesus: Yes, well...fine.


Old Testament God: So, we're in agreement. Number two it is?


Jesus: Number two it is. But I don't like it.


Old Testament God: Nobody likes it. Think of two birds with one stone. pauses dramatically Release the Frogs! claps hands


Jesus: Hopefully they'll smother inside their invisible boxes in the desert heat.

I Haz a Happy

Hooray! Green Bay won the Super Bowl. Hat tip to the Steelers fans: I don't hate the Steelers, but I sure as hell did not want them to win last night. In the mean time, let's toss some cheerleaders in the air to celebrate!!!


A word, if I may, to all the Green Bay fans who still would fall on their knees and worship the fucking ground that Favre walks on and have him start this fall, eat dick. Let us never speak his name again.


To the rest of the Packers fanbase, let's not let another quarterback get bigger than the franchise, kthanxbai.

Also, I would be lying if I didn't kind of want the league to be in lock out next season that I can enjoy a Super Bowl title for two years. Selfish, I know, but in a league that prides itself on parity, I might not get to celebrate another two titles in a row. Ever.



Anyone have any word on whether Antawn Randle El has finally shut the fuck up, or is he still yapping about the only two marginally decent plays that he completed in his stellar professional career?

I Heart You, Chemistry

There are not enough creative and inventive uses of the word fuck to amply describe the day I am having. I refuse to go into too much detail here, but it's a strange state of affairs when I actually go into the lab and do reactions in order to calm my murderous rage.

Retreads are Fun, Right?

I'm too lazy to actually write a new post, mostly because the bus didn't show up this morning, so I ended up driving the kids to school and then, on my to work, nearly got collected in two different head-on collisions. I love living here.

That will not deter me from celebrating my second favorite holiday on the calendar, not to mention my revisiting of the desire to nestle myself down between the thighs of one Betsy Hagar for a good six weeks of winter slumber. And by winter slumber I mean fucking until I pass out from exhaustion, waking up and going at it again.

I was a horny little cuss in high school. Horny, and guilty. *sighs*

And, apparently, our plucky, portly little pal, Punxatawny Phil did not see his shadow, which means there will not be six more weeks of winter! Huzzah! I'm sure that makes you guys in the northern tier of the nation feel better, right? That two feet of snow? Didn't happen. Flowers should be blooming any moment now.

Wait.

You guys know what today is, right?

Okay, yeah, sure, it's Groundhog Day. It's the day when we celebrate the prescient powers of Marmota monax, which is a mixture of Latin and Greek meaning "lonely fatass ground squirrel". In case you were curious (and I know that you weren't), if it ends in an -x, it's typically a Greek word.

Today is also Candlemas, which is traditionally viewed as the day that Christ was presented at the Temple. Mary also had to go to the Temple in order to perform rites associated with recovering from childbirth, a sort of purification, if you will. It is observed 40 days after Christmas. Hey, only 324 shopping days left, slackass!

Also, Candlemas is supposed to be the very last day that you're supposed to have your Christmas greenery up. If you happen to be my neighbor and reading this then...*hint*hint*

And how are the two related? I'm glad you asked! Now, sit down, shut up, and listen: back in the old countries, the English and Germans and other various northern European peoples used to believe that, on the 2nd of February (which is halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Vernal Equinox), bears, badgers, wolves, and weird uncle Lute would emerge from hibernation to inspect the weather and determine if they should go back to sleep or not--which is very curious, considering wolves don't hibernate...

While settling the New World, the tradition was carried over and, apparently, since black bears just didn't cut it, the settlers adopted...the groundhog...as the midwinter mascot. Isn't that...just...awe-inspiring?

In case your awe isn't inspired enough, one of the nicknames for the groundhog is the "whistle pig".

All of this shit is just filler. Most important of all, today is Betsy Hagar's Birthday!!!

Now, I've mentioned Betsy Hagar in the past on here. Several times. And usually it was with one hand in my lap and the other slowly tapping out words like "whipped cream" and "tall blonde goddess" over the keyboard. Hey, one-handed typing is not easy. I see some of you nodding. Don't think I'm not on to you. *mouths the words 'Call me'*

Some of you might not be up on the list of young women I lusted for during my high school days. Betsy Hagar was at the very top of that list. She is the one about whom I would write long, involved, erotic stories and then, being that I was so turned on by my own lustful creativity, I'd crank one out while still fantasizing about Betsy. Upon climax I would breathlessly begin to feel crushing guilt over my carnal tendencies and I'd take the paper on which I wrote the story and I'd burn it, supposedly (in my sick mind) as a way of burning the lust out of my mind for Betsy and all the other women on the list.

And it was quite an extensive list...

But, Betsy was different. As I mentioned here, there was a lot of crushes that came and went during my high school years, but the one constant throughout the time was my seething desire to part Betsy's thighs. Despite how badly I wanted her, my mind invariably forgets about her until Groundhog's Day/her birthday rolls around. She's kind of my portal to the "good old days", when things seemed a lot simpler, and I didn't have so many fucking bills to pay. Yep, less debt and long, sexy, gorgeous legs. That's what thinking of Betsy Hagar reminds me of.

So, Happy Groundhog's Day. Let's hope that lonely little Whistle Pig enjoys his day in the sun. And Happy Birthday, Betsy Hagar: you fill me full to the brim with lust and nostalgia.