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This is the Blog, dammit.
May 31 - 3:11 am : Posted by Daniel Thompson
The Tears of Waterstain'd Mary...
News has reached me that the latest incarnation of Virgin Mary, this time a waterstain under a bridge in Chicago (natch), has been officially declared unholy. Or nonholy, at any rate (A-holey, mayhaps?). Taking a break from her normal beat in sworls on cinnamon raisin bread and highly suggestive corn chips, V-Mary decided to change her normal foodstuff M.O. and bless the salty crack of a highway overpass in Chi-Town.
All together now....Amen.
After drawing crowds of Christians-cum-Carnival Sideshow Enthusiasts, Mary was painted over by a disgruntled atheist (upset with the non-believer healthplan, no doubt), and the former Mother Mary was summarily declared by Public Works to be nothing more than salt water and gravity. From high-holy Virgin to Salty Mary McRoadcrack in just short of a week.
Had this occurred in the Vatican, the new Pope would have declared it Christmas II. Stateside? Public Works spackles over a good one-third of the Holy Trinity and takes a nap in their pickup.
I've often mused that Public Works might be the anti-Pope...
Now as an Agnostic, I've hedged my heavenly bets. I'm an existential pussy of the palest variety, so Kudos to those who feel like they've got access to the spiritual decoder ring. But still... if taken at faith-value (What? Oh, you're too good for puns? Well fuck you, Hemingway!), what would this moisterpiece (Fuck you too, Dickens!) indicate to us about heavenly correspondence? I mean, this is the tetragrammaton's holy communique? Underpasses and snack treats? Is God really this friggin' cheap? Could the Big Guy really be trying to gyp us out of proper miracles for budgetary reasons? (Editors note: yeah, Shakespeare, 'gyp' is the proper spelling, because its a straight-up gypsy epithet. I want to make it abundantly clear that I think God may very well be a dirty, shylock gypsy.)
Anyway, I am genuinely rooting for proper Christianity here, albeit squarely from the sidelines...Christ really does strike me as a solid cat...it just seems like the Virgin Mary would have the Biblical clout to ghost higher-class establishments than under hobo-stained bridges where even Anthony Kiedis refused to boot up when the Mother's Milk tour hit the City Of Big Shoulders (note: after declaring the underpass under-worthy of his unique brand of L.A. neo-hippie swagger, he instead opted to shoot heroin into his scrotum in a decommissioned slaughterhouse on the South Side).
So... if the Moist Virgin was actually a telegraph from Valhalla, you're telling me God sends his 'baby mama' to the Midwest, only to shack her up at the roadcorner equivalent of the Red Roof Inn? If Christ's Mom ever did choose to haunt Chicago, I'm quite sure she'd be welcome to waterstain the Ritz.
In summation...I have no salient point to make. Why? Because this is a Blog, where salient points seem to be outlawed from what I've been able to discern.
On a related note, I just put in a $5.00 bid for a Mary-shaped Toster Strudel on Ebay. Not the Virgin Mary, mind you,
UPS providing, come Good Friday...I'm talking piping-hot Magdelene Strudel for breakfast.
May 24 - 1:10 am : Posted by Daniel Thompson
Mother Nature is a bleacher bum
Ah, Spring...
Not so much the weather, mind you, but the townie wildlife... I overheard a timeless Bostonian exchange on the subway platform today between mother and son:
Son: '...I don't need a shower, ma, I'm clean from the rain!'
Mother: 'Nonsense. You're disgusting. You smell like a Yankees fan.'
And just then 'In a Sentimental Mood' started playing, as if from some distant place, and Ted Williams shed a solitary, headless, cryogenically-frozen tear of joy.
May 17 - 3:01 am : Posted by Daniel Thompson
Death on the Installment Plan... with fries.
So McDonalds is coming out with a new sammich, apparently, called the McSpress, or something equally nonsensical...I guess the McBullshit and the McPhisto were narrowly voted down by irony-impaired board members... but what the hell is the story with McDonald's penchant for patronizing its customer base with juvenile new euphemisms for Hot Death? Isn't it enough that they're methodically fattening the planet for the slaughter without openly mocking them for it? Whats with the complimentary McFuckYou for fatty?
At least Burger King's 'Enormous Omelet Sandwich' lets you know that you're pulling the trigger on a loaded chamber, you know? Its still symphonically jackassed behavior to pull up to the trough at either establishment mind you, I'm not here to romanticize intravenous steaktip abuse or anything - I'm just saying, let Americans look in the mirror when they order the McBullet in the McBrain entree and stop sugarcoating the cyanide pill by naming it the McSaladbeaver Von Health'n'Stuffer.
(Yeah, yeah, bullets to pills, I know...so I mix my metaphors, alright? What are you, the friggin' Literary S.S.? Go blow it out your ass, you dirty bookworm Nazi!).
Come to think of it, I don't actually care that much about McDonalds in even a sleepy, distant sort of way. Raving indulgently just happened to strike me as slightly more engaging than reading about Nicole Ritchie's new all-Flax diet. O.k.... Re-reading about Nicole Ritchie's new all-Flax diet, sheesh. Twist a guys arm when he's trying to be gritty and urban, why don't you.
Other names sagely jettisoned by the McDonalds braintrust:
The McMandango (hint: the special sauce is...McManChowder)
The McFleetwood (hint: the sandwich is a far better drummer)
The McBovine Sledgehammer (hint: ...Its soul is the tastiest part)
May 9 - 4:45 am : Posted by Daniel Thompson
Asses to asses, Butts to butts.
America's unusual fixation with asses and our marrow-deep puritanical roots are destined to meet on the cultural supercollider any second now. Despite the glaring fact that even a Google search for Jesus is likely to bring up porn favorite 'The Gash-Eon of The Christ', the Superultraconservative movement seems hellbent on acting as if they hawked their collective penis as a demented pledge of allegiance to whatever that Catholic cult is that Mel Gibson sold his pants to.
Is the Right pretending that they don't have zealot chippies on the side? That they've never left Virgin Mary-shaped stains on the pillowcases at the Quality Inn? Because frankly, I can't hear their bizarre denials over the sound of millions of people masturbating simultaneously to whatever new kind of porn the internet just invented.
And anyway, I refuse to even draw out this line of thinking, because the whole thing strikes me as too obvious even for a blog, all I'm saying is that the Porn Generation is going to eat the Right's breakfast on the topic of Mass Humping. So watch for it. Pants Optional.
ACT II
The Musings of Sam Walters
The Day I Almost Killed Everyone (click here)
Healing (click here)
Midriff (click here)
Nothing To Wear (click here)
Snow (click here)
Speed (click here)
So You Want to be a Standup Comic (click here)
Straight Dopes (click here)
Supermarket (click here)
Woe Is Me (click here) |
