Ok, I can see getting mad at your wife. I can even see getting mad enough to murder someone (I’m saying I can conceive it, not justify it). But to strangle, decapitate, and stuff your wife’s body in a suitcase for a passerby to find??? That is going waaaaay overboard. And then disposing of the the head in a dumpster, far away from the body? This makes no sense to me. This guy owes somebody an explanation! Where is the logic?

The Afterlife

“But an ego and a prayer don’t fit in the same room so my life ain’t nuthin’ but a cartoon without a laughtrack.”

– Mexigogue

Yes, I’m egotistical enough to quote myself on my own blog. But I needed a point of entry on the subject of theism versus egoism. These are in fact diametrically opposed concepts because the one posits a higher power as the basis of ethics whereas the other is fixated upon the individual. I vacillate between these two opposing ideologies in my personal life which is the basis for a lot of self contradiction. Why not settle on one or the other? Simply put, I want my cake now and I’d like some in the Afterlife as well.

True rational objectivists scoff, but yes I’m talking about an afterlife. It is the only hope for true value because without an Eternal Reward, any value in this life is as transient as a soap bubble. Then once life is gone, what will any value that existed therein matter one way or the other? The value contained within an extinct life is like the value in an empty set. I don’t want to fathom that because, if it’s right, then there’s no reward that really matters.

So I believe in God and an Afterlife, the whole nine yards. All well and good. So the other night I was talking to this chick and she was really wigging out about her lack of clarity on her own position. She says that she believes in the general principles of the Bible but she doesn’t believe it is verbatim the word of God. “But what if I’m wrong?” she says. “What if it not true at all and I end up in hell for believing the wrong thing?” I sense that she needs to be consoled so I kind of shrug and say “Well hey!” (note: I’m not the most comforting motherfucker to talk to when you need reassurance)

“Or what if there is no afterlife at all?” she continues. “Then what the fuck?”

I think for a moment, then try my best to give a sufficient answer. “If there really is a God, the we can only hope that He is as Merciful as they say He is. And if there really isn’t a God, then there’s not really much that worrying is going to do about that either. So basically, don’t worry about it.”

“Or what if there’s reincarnation??” (she’s apparently determined to stress herself out one way or the other) “And what if I’ve done so much wrong in this life that I come back as something I absolutely hate? Then what??”

“I see what you’re sayin’” I say, not really seeing what she’s saying. “Like, what if you come back as, something like, a yeast infection or something like that? That would be fucked up!”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be too bad,” she says. “At least then you get to keep coming back.”

This blog really has not point. I just wanted y’all to hear what I considered to be the comeback of the week. She said some stuff that was way worse than too but I dare not put it here, as there might be children listening.

Thoughts. . .

Have you ever been sitting on the toilet. . . pushing and straining. . . and suddenly POP! POPPOP! POP! POP!! It feels like you’ve blasted all your internal organs out? Well, that’s never happened to me. . . and if it’s happened to you, that’s pretty fucked up.

Hey, if a Chinese guy isn’t really paying attention to how he’s making his soup, is that wanton disregard?

Chinese. . . I’m thinking of getting a tattoo in Chinese lettering, and having it say “kick me”, or something. Nobody would know the difference anyhow.

Things I’ve learned this week: Nikki does not like to accidently be called ‘Lauri’. OK, like I was supposed to just know that? I need the rules beforehand people. I’m not too big on the interpersonal skills department. What else have I learned? Oh yeah. . . There’s no socially acceptable way to end a sentence that begins “I’m not a necrophiliac but. . . ” And asking if the 15 second rule applies to corpses does not help.

In eight short days I’ll be 34. If I’m ever going to attain my longtime goal of becoming a fiery demagogue, now would be about the time to start. Actually, my longterm goal is to be killed by an angry mob of torchweilding peasants. . . but first things first.

Screw this, I can’t think of anything with redeeming social value. I gotta go.

This blog was only a test. If this had been an actual emergency, you would have been directed to run screaming in circles while flailing your arms in the air. End transmission.

Faith-Based Organizations

George Bush should get the Islamic Unity Award for uniting the Shi’ites and Sunni Muslims for the first time in living memory. I must admit I was hoping I’d be the one to finally unite the ummah, perhaps with some kick ass essay that would absolve all our differences and pave the way for understanding and brotherhood among Muslims. . . but I missed the obvious answer: war. Nothing to bring mom and dad together like a neighbor kicking in the door. Hey, do Hamas and Hezbollah count as faith-based organizations?

In other news, unless that chick in Colorado can run the point position in the triangle offense, they need to let Kobe go. Why is this thing still in court? If I was his attorney, I would play up the white-girls-make-up-outlandish-stories-for-attention angle and make frequent references to that “abducted” chick in Wisconsin. Ok, I know that would that would be objected to and sustained but I’d keep bringing it up until they jailed me for contempt like in “My Cousin Vinnie.”

I’m feeling evil today, yet there’s not a lot of opportunity for mayhem thus far today. I guess I could staple AIDS information packets in the wrong corner all day. . . . naaah. . . Not evil enough. Until further notice, I’ll be sitting here thinking. . .

The Passion of Christ: a MexiMuslim Review

Finally saw The Passion of Christ. I must begin by saying that the brutality was graphic. I flinched with every lashing. The blood spraying through the air was so real. When punched and cursed and knocked to the floor. . . when the skin on his back welted and split and he was covered from head to toe in blood. . . all I could think of is that this is what staff meetings are like for me. I’ve been pretty much through THE EXACT SAME THING! Except for with me it’s quarterly.

The impossibly heavy cross just made it worse. And dragging it uphill on top of that? I’m here to tell you right now that I could not have been Jesus. Trying to drag that cross up some steps while the Romans were still lashing his sides and his legs? I’da have to turned around and been like ‘Now I done had about ENUFF of all that lashin’ shit! Don’t make me put this muthafucka down and get Old Testement on ya ass!” It was a good thing he had that Rasheed Wallace lookin dude to help him carry it. Dude was a Jew but he looked like he had some brotha in him.

Mary Magdeline was hot. Hearing Aramaic spoken was the best part of the film for me. I picked up some of the words as they were similar to Arabic (both being Semitic languages). Then I picked up when they switched to Latin because Spanish is Latin based. I’m into etymology and philology. I really dug that the women wore veils (not face veils, head scarves). I’m skool like dat.

They had too many scenes of him falling though. I guess it must have been the same guy who choregraphed Frodo in the Fellowship of the Ring. Yeshua (I like his Aramaic name better, sounds waaay cooler than Jesus) eyes were all swoll and his face was blood streaked. . . The actual crucifiction part kind of puzzled me. Somebody once told me they had to crucify through the wrists because through the hands wouldn’t have supported his weight and he would have fallen off. . . but whatever. It was really tough. By the time he was crucified there were people in the audience sniffling and crying. I had. . like. . a piece of pollen in my eye or something. . . I had to keep rubbing it. It was rough.

The worst part was watching Mary weeping, without a damn thing she could do about it. For every parent the first crucifuction you have to go through is like the hardest. Watching her was unbearable. I kept waiting for her to toss him up a can of spinach. Coulda been a whole different ending. See his forearms pump up, rip one hand out, then the other. “So!!! Ya likes to wear me crowns of thorns, does ya?? LEAP! ZIMP! POW!!! UUUUCK UCKUCKUCKCUCK!!!!!”

What the hell am I saying? I must still need sleep. I’m not making any sense. I better finish this while it’s still good literature. Oops, too late.

An Open Letter to my Ex

I’ve had some unresolved anger issues for quite some time. I’ve talked it over with my bartender therapist and I was told it would help if I wrote a letter to my ex, with whom I have these unresolved anger issues. I wrote the letter and, after edits from my attorney, I finally have a finished product. Here it goes:

Dear Wombat Halima,

I hate you Hello. I wish to God I had never met you It is regrettable that things turned out they way they have between us. You’ve ruined my life Knowing you has indelibly changed my life . Thanks a fucking lot! and I am thankful for having known you. I hope you end up wandering the streets and covered with lesions I trust that life will reward you with what you deserve and I hope you burn in hell and that God is as merciful with you as you have been with me. I hope you have an accident May your life be care-free. Sincerely, Michael.

I feel a lot better now. This therapeutic stuff really works.

The Jesus Movie Will Help Me Score

Is that title so wrong? I’m supposed to be going to see ‘The Passion’ with this chick. I’ve been wanting to see this movie for quite some time. I want to hear Aramaic spoken. I want to see what all of the fuss was about. I want to see if the guy portraying Christ is really better at it then I imagined Chris Tucker would have been (picture him getting first word of crucifiction and going ‘oh HEEEELL NAW! HE AIN’T MEAN DAT! HE JUST PLAYIN’ Y’ALL!’) . Anyway, this is big for me. This will be my one movie of the year.

I asked this one woman at work if it was wrong to take a girl to the Jesus movie to help you score. Her jaw dropped but no words came out. You’da thunk I grew horns (again). I don’t see why people always want to act all celibate when Christ is mentioned. There has even been speculation among theologians that he may have been married and had children. Of course this runs counter to what The Church as taught since like forever but historically it’s an interesting aside.

I’m not really trying to use the movie to score. I just wanted to say something to get the steam puffing out of peoples ears and draw attention to the blog. But I am going to the movie with the chick. I like the company. And I like to imagine that if they made a movie about me, the big J.C. might have gone to see it, and maybe even taken a chick. That would be cool.

Old Skool Beat New Skool

I went to watch my thirteen-year old play basketball in a tournament a couple weeks ago. I was kind of impressed with the way these young kids played. They made a lot of mental errors of course but they had some good plays as well. I started wondering how good my son really was so I challenged him to a game of 21 on the school playground this morning. He agreed so we went out there and started shooting around.

Jordon’s going on fourteen next week and I’ll be 34 this month so this was a match for the ages (literally). I was horrible in the shootaround. I haven’t shot in years. The fundamentals were still there but my aim was rusty. He kept saying I was old. I said I’m not that old. Yet and still I’m out of practice so I decided nothing fancy today. No long shots. All post up, pivots, and hook shots.

Jordon’s mistakes was taking long shots. When I tried to post up he was banging back. Good D I thought. He was contesting my hookshots (left and right handed). So I started to pivot, begin with a hook, and go up and under and finger roll them in. He thought I was getting lucky, til I kept making the same shot over and over again. It ain’t luck. It’s Ye Olde Skool. Boyeee.

I was up 19 to 13 but I was running out of wind. I only needed one more shot but I didn’t want to make my free throw as it would give me 20 then I’d need to make my next free throw or go back down to 15. I took an underhanded free throw and it went in. Dammit. Now I’m in trouble. So I took another underhand free throw and made that one as well. End game. Old Skool one, New Skool zero. I have to play him again when it gets warmer.

Oh yeah. Dave is another game up on the Chicken Wars. I ain’t forgot. I get way more talkative when I win. That’s the benefit of having your own blog. Ha!

Didn’t See This Coming

Brawl Breaks Out at Anger Management Session

I can’t possibly add anything to that situation to make it funnier. Or sadder. Remember, the only difference between tragedy and comedy is a laugh track.

Pirate Consultant

Explaining the finer points of pirate theory

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