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11.15.2005

Pardon my interruption 

luchadorOkay, so my brother Craig and his wonderful wife Allison got married in a ceremony that took place over a month ago (and if you missed the stories and pictures at my brother Patrick's blog, you deserve to die). But if I didn't tell at least one story from that insane weekend, I'd be a major douchebag. Besides, this anecdote that I was reminded of was too much to pass up on.

So, at the reception, I was engaged in a pleasant and lengthy conversation with a friend of the family. You know, one of those long, boring "Hey, I haven't talked to you in four years, how's your life been?" kind of discourses that typically drag on awkwardly long.

Conveniently enough, this also took place before a great deal of the drinking started. Which means I can remember it without having to make stuff up to fill in the large gaps that encapsulated a majority of the remainder of my night.

Anyhow, here's how the conversation pretty much concluded:

Mrs. H: So what do you plan to do next, now that you're almost out of college?
Me: Well, I'm in the process of applying for jobs and internships right now. You know, hoping I find something that pays me enough to eat and live once I graduate.
Mrs. H: Oh really, that's great. You know when I got out of college and I was looking for work...
Me: I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me, I have to ask you a question.
Mrs. H: Um, okay... What?
Me: Is it hard to take me seriously?
Mrs. H: Gee, I don't know. Why do you ask?
Me: Well, I've been standing here talking with you for over ten minutes now, and I've been wearing this ridiculous luchador wrestling mask the entire time. I'd imagine it's kind of hard to take me seriously, especially during a very businesslike conversation such as this one.
Mrs. H: Um, well, I don't know.
Me: I mean, at the very least, isn't it hard to carry a conversation when you can't see someone's facial expressions? I'd guess it might make it difficult to follow.
Mrs. H: Um... Well, to tell you the truth, I've just been staring into your eyes. At first I couldn't really concentrate, because the green on your mask is so bright. But once I started looking at your eyes, it wasn't so bad.
Me: Okay, thanks, I just had to know. It was good talking to you.

11.09.2005

Punching for Jesus 

Jesus is your Lord and Savior, bitch, and there ain't nothing you can do about it.

I met someone a long time ago who told me he was a "Jesus Freak." And he didn't have leprosy.

That kind of perplexed me. Jesus wasn't really a freak. I guess he hung out with a few of them, though. Even healed and saved some of them. But even still, it's a weird title to pick.

Turns out, these crazy kids who love Jesus use it as a "cool" term -- it's something the youth can embrace as "hip."

Well I don't think Jesus wants to be hip. In fact, I think Jesus gets pissed off at people like these "Jesus Freaks." I think Jesus just wants you to live your life and respect Him without turning your beliefs into a marketable catch phrase that the 'kids' can relate to. I think Jesus knows better. And I know what Jesus thinks.

So I decided I'd become my own unique brand of religion-pusher.

I'm a Jesus Jerk.

I don't take shit from anybody, especially when it comes to my beliefs and my religion. I'm always right, and I'll sacrifice your personal health and state of well-being to prove it.

I've been known to introduce people to the Holy Trinity of ass-whooping: my fist, my foot, and an eternity in the pain capsule of purgatory.

My track record in ass-kicking for Jesus speaks for itself: I baptize sinners in boiling water, I hear confessions from politicians, I don't eat meat on days of the week that end with 'day,' and I don't believe in science, evolution or gravity.

I don't care if you're Episcopalian, Baptist, Mormon or a Muslim terrorist -- if you don't accept Jesus into your heart, I will punch you in the throat. I know all of the ways to send a sinner to Hell: I've been trained in four types of holy martial arts, including Christ-Fu, Jew-jitsu, and Ninjutsuckersgetpunchedintheface.

As a Jesus Jerk, my powers against the forces of the devil are numerous: I've been granted the ability to speak with my tongue, I can worship for no longer than a one-hour block of time per week, and I am the sole possessor of a valuable pocket-sized guide to God and His ways, granted to me by a man who was sent on behalf of an elusive group of people who know God and call themselves "The Gideons."

I kill babies that cry during public worship. I carve the Ten Commandments into public benches with a knife. I think Hugo Chavez should be assassinated. "The Passion of the Christ" was a life-changing experience that made me stop soliciting prostitution. I think Kwanzaa was created by Ted Kennedy.

I am a holier person than you, and I let you know it because I'm offended by everything you say and do. You're constantly self-conscious about what you say when I'm around, because you know speaking in front of me is the equivalent of speaking in the presence of God.

In short, if you don't think God is the Alpha and the Omega, you might just get a kick in your Delta-Iota-Kappa.

Praise the Lord, bitch.

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2003 - 2005
Reverend Hughes