Tuesday, January 25, 2011


AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

that's all I've got for now.....

Thursday, January 6, 2011

And seem a saint when most I play the devil…

—or “the Religious Wrong”


I almost had an accident on my way to work this morning. I had to go get blood work done, so I was driving a route that I don’t normally take. And I passed by a local church that leans toward the fundamentalist side of things…


Now, it isn’t a “talking in tongues, here comes the rapture” kind of church to my knowledge, but they’re Jerry Falwellesque in philosophy. And I’m not being critical here, I’m just trying to set the scene.


 
So, anywho…

As I drive past this establishment, I notice the sign out front:



“The bible that Jesus read.”



Um,… uh,… what?



Now, I freely admit that I have not darkened the door of any church in close to 20 years. Life circumstances and all that. I was raised Catholic and attended a Baptist church for a bit, but I have become disillusioned by formal religion. Their attitudes towards gays and the like doesn’t jive with the whole “all-loving God” thing. All this is to show that I know a little bit about religions….



So, anywho…



Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t the Bible written well after Jesus’ death?

Monday, January 3, 2011

… and to be boy eternal… ~ The Winter’s Tale

My inner 12-year-old boy seems to be breaking free more and more frequently these days.
Just within the past month I have found myself giggling as I encountered the following names:
                Anita Head
                Dick Johnson
                Ms. Sackrider

Why?   Why do I go instantly into Beavis and Butthead mode at these?

And can anyone explain my chuckles at the wording of an ad on Facebook for a dating site for those of us over 50:

                “Our mature male members….”


There have been others, but I can’t remember them now…   And I am not alone in this; I have several co-workers—doctors no less—who are right there with me in these giggle fests.    Of course, the fact that I feel compelled to share these gems with them is another frightening thing.     I have raised children, people.   I am a grandmother—I am supposed to have decorum.


I need help.