Sunday, December 16, 2012

Sunday Go To Meetin': The Christmas Pageant

The dirty minds see it........

Hey now, ya silly shits!  I think today is a perfect day for a Bring on the Snow, Ya Don't Scare Me beer drinkin' revival!  I gots new rubber on the rims and the drop seat on my union suit is reinforced for heavy duty ass evac that comes after snow parties!  Mother Nature is gonna try to fuk with us here in the Granite State tonight and much of this week.  That bitch can suck nuts for all I care.  (See what I did there?  Got up in her grill like a badass!)  But then again, by about the third storm, you can expect me to wad up my diaper, spit out my binkie and be a whining pantload praying for two-wheeled weather!

Back to church....To hell with wafers and wine... help yerself to a Christmas Tree sugar cookie and dip it in yer Bloody Mary.  It's Sunday Go To Meetin' Time and the altar at Our Lady of the Nice Rack is all a splendor with holiday shit.  We got poinsettas, candy canes, wooden soldiers and more snowflakes than you can shake a dick at.  I mean stick.  Whoops!  And we brought in friggin' Whoopi Goldberg's Jewish Christmas Choir to raise the gawdam roof with alleluias and meshu-gehs!

Dear Gawd, blesser of fine wines, sculptor of finer asses and creator of Spaghetti-O's with franks, hear us pray.  According to the Mayan calendar, this may just be our final prayer service together.  They say it all goes down the apocalyptic shitter on Friday.  Mayan calendar, schmayan calendar...  I say any calendar without naked chicks on choppers or wearing tool belts is not worth having.  Lawd, we ask you this morning to show those fukkin Mayans that the new boss is the same as the old boss and that no ancient Mexican is gonna decide when the world will end.  That's your gig, brother... we know that. Although, I gotta tell you, Harold, you ain't so good at that either.  Remember the big flood?  Yep, you thought you would wipe out the world because we were sinnin' and grinnin' like maniacs, but that little fukkin boat builder and his two by two conga line spoiled your party, didn't he?  The Black Plague, Joannie Loves Chachi... none of it has worked yet.  We are like freakin' cockroaches!  Amen.

Today's reading is from the First Letter of Epstein's Mother to Mr. Kotter, aka "Bullshit Excuses"  

Washington (CNN) -- U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton sustained a concussion after becoming dehydrated and fainting, and will no longer testify Thursday before the House Foreign Affairs Committee on the deadly attack on the U.S. consulate in Benghazi, Libya.  Clinton had been suffering from a stomach virus at the time, according to a statement on Saturday from Philippe Reines, deputy assistant secretary of state.  She is being monitored by doctors and is recovering at home.  She was never hospitalized, Reines said.

"At their recommendation, she will continue to work from home next week, staying in regular contact with Department and other officials. She is looking forward to being back in the office soon," Reines said.

Secretary Clinton had been scheduled to testify on Capitol Hill Thursday about the deadly attack in Benghazi, Libya, in September that killed four Americans, including the U.S. ambassador.  

Jodi Seth, spokeswoman for Sen. John Kerry, Senate Foreign Relations Committee chairman, said in a statement that Clinton would not testify before that committee Thursday."Secretary Clinton's team contacted Senator Kerry this morning to inform them of the Secretary's concussion. Senator Kerry was relieved to hear that the Secretary is on the mend, but he insisted that given her condition, she could not and should not appear on Thursday as previously planned, and that the nation's best interests are served by the report and hearings proceeding as scheduled with senior officials appearing in her place," Seth said.

The September 11, 2012, attack resulted in the deaths of four Americans, including Ambassador Chris Stevens, and called into question the security of U.S. diplomatic personnel abroad.

Yep... you are reading CNN correctly.  Hillary is bailing out on having to testify by claiming to be sick.  Yep, a stomach virus and a minor concussion on Saturday and she won't be able to talk on Thursday.  I thought I was the master of the "I can't come to work, I'm shitting my guts out" excuse.  But now our Secretary of State is pulling one out of my bag of tricks just to get out of facing tough questions on how Obie and his staff handled the Libyan attacks.  "Sorry, Mr. President.  I cannot testify.  I'm shitting brown water like a fire hose."  CALLING BULLSHIT ON THIS ONCE AGAIN!  Suck it up, Hill... loosen that pony tail and maybe your headache will go away.  

That familiar music you hear is Pigthistle huffing Aldo Nova's Fantasy on the panflute.  That little hunchbacked fukker is multi-talented, ya know.  Sorry about the leopard print jumpsuit, tho!  He thought it would finish off the 80's look.  I told him he looked like Honey Boo Boo with a goiter.  So while Mr. Mayfair is wooing you with that hypnotizing melody, it is time for you to dig into your pockets and get all charitable!  We are doing the offertory this morning ala the Christmas Pageant.  Emma Sumbigguns is sittin' sidesaddle on a donkey, coming down the center aisle, escorted by Joseph, who seems a little pissed off and is asking how to get in touch with Maury Povich.  They are followed by three dumbasses named Gary, Roofus and Big Lou.  (All the wise men are at real churches this morning).  Instead of money this week, you can feel free to drop a little gold in the basket.  Don't bother with the fukkin frankincense or myrrh.  I don't know what that shit is or why it would be given to a little kid.  Wise men my ass!  Don't they know kids like toys?  And gold!  And you can keep the french hens and leaping lords to yourself too, while you are at it.  If it ain't gold, it better have a President's face on it.  Thanks for giving.

Gifting you this morning with some of the best lyrics RVZ ever wrote.  Simple Man is a song EVERY person should live by.  To hell with material wealth and the friggin' stress that comes with it....  be a simple man!!

Forget your lust, for the rich man's gold
All that you need, is in your soul,
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied.

And be a simple kind of man.
Oh be something, you love and understand.
Baby be a simple kind of man.
Oh, won't you do this for me son, if you can?

That's about it, ya assholes.  Pigthistle had to leave early and Emma has a date with some frankincense.  So I am marching you outta my church to a new song... one you likely have never heard until today.

Turn to page 8 of the "Look What I Found On Youtube" hymn book and join us for the Beer Drinkin' Gospel Revival!!!!

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