Sunday, December 23, 2012

Sunday Go To Meetin' And The Gospel According To Joseph


Meanwhile, back at the North Pole:  He's checked his list.... Twice!  His wife has given his sack the once-over and is looking forward to him finally getting the fuk outta the house tomorrow so she can have the girls over for some some Portugese wine and the annual lingerie pillow fight.  The sleigh is all tuned up and the reindeer are carbo-loaded like a Kenyan in April.  The elves have clocked out and are at the honky tonk tippin' 'em back with Big Smo and the home grown dimes, talking about their fat-ass boss and the stale snowman Christmas cookies he gave them for a bonus this year.  All of this means only one thing, ya assholes!  Christmas Eve is nigh and soon seven year olds around the world will be dragging their parents' hungover asses out of bed at 4:30 in the morning to see what Santa bought at Toys R Us.  Ho ho freakin' ho!!!

But before we can get to Christmas, we gotta go to church... afterall, it is the reason for the season, right?  Well, unless you are Jewish.  Then Adam Sandler is the reason for the season.  But I digress.  Pigthistle has been up in the belfry since sunrise, banging out holiday tunes on the rusty bells, bringing the congregation together for today's worship and bullshit session at the First Church of The Morning Wood.

OPENING PRAYER
Oh blessed and bearded lawd, creator of the Budweiser fridge pack that fits so perfectly on the middle shelf and speeds up the getting of beer by at least 2-3 seconds, we offer you praise and all kinds of shit like that.  Gawd, we thank you for making the Gawdam J E T S a bigger collection of nitwits than the bad at math Mayans.  Admittedly, Harold, you have not been so nice to New Englandahs when it comes to the sports scene and that toilet bowl known as New York/New Jersey.  But for every Bucky fukkin Dent, Billy fukkin' Buckner and David fukkin Tyree, you continue to remind us that you have also given us the fukkin Jets!  From buttfumbles to foot worship videos to Braylon Edwards, we thank you for this.  Now, oh lawd of karma, we ask that you PUHLEEEEEZE send Michael Vick to Gang Green.  Pretty please!!!  With sugar on top and a foot in the ass!  Holy shit would that not be awesome!!!  The only thing that could be better than that would be to replace Rex Ryan with Norv Turner.  But now we are probably asking for too much.  Amen.

THE READING
Today's reading is from the Gospel ended up on King James' cutting room floor.   The Gospel According to Joseph The Carpenter

On a Wednesday morning in Nazareth, Joe Christ and his crew were busy at work, framing a 2-story Victorian on the corner of Noah Street and Sinai Boulevard.  Joe, preoccupied all morning, sat down for his morning break with his buddies (Carpenter's Local 1 demands one morning break for matza and wine).  Sitting there with much weighing on his mind, Joe finally opened up to his best friend and fishing buddy, Robert of Galilee.  "Bob, I haven't told anyone, but Mary and I are having a baby."  

"No shit man!!  Congrats!" said Bob, "You guys will make terrific parents."

"There's more to the story, bud.  You see, Mary and I have not even laid down together yet.  We still have Fred and Wilma beds for crying out loud.  I have tried wine, Barry White music and even a candle lit bathtub.  But she always has a friggin' headache!"

"Dude!  You think she's having an affair?"

"I don't think so Bob.  She never leaves the house.  The other night, though, I did hear some noise and woke up to this mysterious glow over our room.  It was like a friggin' search light or something.  But in a flash it was gone.  Mary was awake and looked a little freaked out.  Said something about a Holy Spirit and needing some ambien.  I don't know.  Some crazy shit.  She also said we have to have the baby in Bethlehem."

"BETHLEHEM???  That's a friggin' 5 day donkey ride from here."

"Yeah, I know.  And we only have the one donkey, which means I'm gonna have to hoof it while she rides bareass the whole way.  I know this much.  If I travel all that way to have a baby that I did not begat myself, we had better get some good fukkin' gifts.  I can use some new frankincense."

"Well, I don't know what to say, Joe," said Bob trying to comfort his troubled pal.  "What are you going to name the baby?"

"If it's a girl, I think we're gonna go with Shakira.  But if it's a boy, Mary is pretty attached to Jesus."

"Jesus Christ.  It has a nice ring to it."

This is not the Gospel of the Lawd.  Amen.

THE OFFERTORY
Time to pay the bills....  Today's collection is going toward the Preacher Needs A New Harley Charitable Campaign.  So forget the singles... fold up your sawbucks and benjamins cuz I'm going big this time!  Passing the basket and shining the pole is our oh so lovely Emma, decked out in her mistletoe beltbuckle and Santa boots.  A reminder that following the service today, we will be having the annual Figgy Pudding Wrestling Tournament and Naked Bingo in the church hall with Emma and her friends.  Check your bulletin for details.



RYSPONSORYAL LYRIC
Today's RVZ moment comes to you outta the swamps of Florida....


Going down to the swamp
Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a ’coon
Well, I’m going down to the swamp
Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a ’coon
You know the hounddog make-a music
On a summer night under a full moon

Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Gonna catch a bream or maybe two
Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Gonna catch a bream or maybe two
And when the hound dog start barkin’
Sounds like ol’ son house singin’ the blues

Hound dog sing that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
When the hound dog starts singin’
I ain’t got them big ol’ city blues


GTFO
Today's recessional song is bound to be a Christmas classic, right up there with Jingle Bells, O Little Town of Bethlehem and All I Want For Christmas Is A Hot Mute Chick.   Robert Earl Keen is a funny mofo and lays down some feel good family lyrics.... Merry Christmas, ya assholes!!!  Go in peace.. and Go Pats!

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