Monday, May 21, 2007
Lightning can be dangerous.
Hello, how are ya? I'm feeling on the verge of thrilled, because a famous person knows me. One of my favorite columnists in the world, Dan Savage, who writes a sexual advice column wrote ME an email today alerting me to a news story about a Jesus statue who got his arm blown off by lightning.
More on that in a minute.
But first: How cool is that? Dan Savage wrote ME! I know they occasionally run my blog in their Seattle newspaper (where he lives and works), but I kinda thought he might hate my guts. Why? Two reasons: 1) He's a gay. 2) He's a Catholic gay. Gay people sometimes hate me, because they think I hate the gays. I really like the gays. One of my good friends Derek is one of the gays (and a cop). He's not Catholic, though. Catholics sometimes don't like me either. Especially ex-Catholics. I get blamed for a lot of dumb junk that happened to them when they were in Catholic school, like all that useless memorization, the crazy rules, mean nuns, and the non-consensual buggery. (Oh… pardon my French.) Anyway, I'm really psyched that Dan Savage doesn't hate me, because I'm a big fan of his column even though it's sexual.
So to Dan Savage I say, "Holla!" (Maybe he could give me some advice about Trudy [she's a bank teller who recently stuck her finger in my mouth, which made feel weird down there… pardon my French]?)
Now, about that Jesus statue getting his arm blown off. Apparently there's a big 33-foot statue of me in Golden, Colorado, which was struck by a lightning bolt on Sunday. It knocked off one of my arms, a hand, and damaged one of my feet, "sending marble plummeting to the ground." One of the nuns there said, "There were pilgrims up there on the hill. The biggest miracle is no one got hit with the falling debris."
First of all: PILGRIMS ARE FUNNY! Ever see those funny hats they wear? Hilarious! I'm glad they didn't get hurt, but boy! I sure would've liked to have seen all those pilgrims running everywhere!
Secondly, neither I or my dad had anything to do with this. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: WE DON'T CONTROL THE WEATHER. If I did, believe me, I wouldn't even own a pair of galoshes. We also don't control if people get hit—or don't get hit—by debris. If any of those pilgrims had gotten hit by a big 11 foot version of my arm, I'm sorry to say it would've been their own dumb fault for hanging around a 33 foot me in a thunderstorm… while wearing funny hats.
Anyway! Thanks Dan Savage, for the tip! Be sure to read his funny and smart column here. Warning: it's kind of sexual sometimes!
Oh, and I ate at Red Robin this weekend. It was gross. They gave me a balloon, though. Nice.