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Hi, everybody. How are you? Well prepare to be DEVASTATED, because I am officially announcing my blog-tirement. Or my blogination. (What do you call it when you retire or resign from blogging? Getting a life?) Anyhoo, I'm quitting blogging for awhile. WHATEVER WILL THE INTERNET DO? Well, from what I understand, there are a few other websites of note, and they are practically desperate for people to read them. I used to be desperate, but thanks to this blog, and a series of wacky adventures, I think I'm feeling comfortable enough now to do other things for awhile. More on that in a moment, but I'm sure you have a number of questions, including, "WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID?" My answer to that would be, "Baby… it's not you… it's ME." To tell the truth, I have a number of metaphorical entrees on my plate that need to be eaten, and frankly, I'm starving for time. (OOH! My writing has really improved!) These entrees are as follows:
1) TRUDY THE BANK TELLER. No dirty bird, I'm not going to "eat" her. (PMF.) But ever since I kissed her on the mouth (check previous blog posts for that sexxxxy scenario… PMF), I kind of feel like I've been sitting on my patoot (PMF), relationship-wise. It's time to buy her steak dinners at Outback, feed her cotton candy and Chick-o-sticks, and go all John Cusack in Say Anything on her patoot. (PMF again.)
2) HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL. While high school doesn't start for a month, I need to buy pencils, pencil cases and Pee-Chee folders—because I don't want to be made fun of. Plus, high school football practice begins in earnest in a couple of weeks… and if I'm going to be like my teammate Jeremy (that is, walking around without a shirt on) my abs are going to have to be ripped. And abs don't rip themselves.
3) MY ENEMIES. Whenever I blog, I'm basically giving ammo to all my enemies, like Rev. Sparkle, Terry the grocery store checker (see blog post #1… haven't heard from him in awhile, huh?), and especially DAMIEN, whose annoyances have practically become a full time job themselves. Now I can read Damien's blog and screw around with him for awhile. (PMF!)
And last, but definitely not least, 4) KAREN. THAT'S MY LAMB. Nobody in the world means more to me than Karen, and while it's been important for me to look after myself, it's time for Karen to have a good daddy. Not that I gave birth to her, or impregnated a sheep or anything. That would be gross.
So anyway, I guess that's it for now. It's been really great sharing all my stories with you, especially since most of the stories in the bible about me are so fakey. At least in this blog you were able to see what I was really all about. I'm a nice guy, I'm a jerk, I'm super smart and I'm a dope. Just like everybody else. But just remember, I'll always always always like you and think of you. And even though I don't control the weather, and can't afford an iPhone, it's still okay to pray if it makes you feel better. Sometimes just admitting you're scared, and getting it off your chest improves things a lot.
Oh, and while the bible can be super duper annoying and WRONG most of the time, they did get one thing I said basically right: Try to make a lot of friends and be nice to each other. Time goes by a lot better that way.
Ciao for now,
Your always pal,
Jesus "H is for Hank" Christ
HELLO. Where's it at, fruit bat? Today I am feeling VINDICATED, because not only has the new Harry Potter book been released, but I also totally "faced" Rev. Sparkle (he's the pastor of the Victory Baptist Church who thinks I mugged him when I was really only asking for $500 so I could get an iPhone). Do you know what "faced" means? Getting "faced" is when you really burn somebody, and yell, "FACE!" But if you super burn somebody, then you can yell, "FACIAL!" And if you super-duper-duper burn somebody, you can yell, "BIORÈ!" (Which are like, those nose cleaning strips.) Thought you'd like to know!
Anyway, to recap: I was standing in line outside the bookstore for like almost a week waiting for the new Harry Potter book to hit the shelves, and was having a really nice time with all my new Potterphile friends, when all of a sudden that buzz-kill Rev. Sparkle walked up and started accusing everybody of being Satanists and delving in "witchery" just because Harry Potter has a wizard or two. So I hit him with a "FACE!" and then a "FACIAL!" and Rev. Sparkle got so mad, he promised to return later with a bunch of his meaty Christian friends to do something… I don't know what. Maybe bore us to death?
Anywuggle, this got everybody in line REALLY NERVOUS, and they were afraid something bad was going to happen, and they wouldn't get their Harry Potter books. (Now, to you, this may not mean much—but to these people, missing out on the final Harry Potter book is like President Bush not getting to bomb Iraq. It's a big deal.) And I felt like everyone was looking to me to save the day, because I was the one who gave Rev. Sparkle a facial. (Hmmm… that sounds PMF-y for some reason.) But here's the thing: I DIDN'T WANT TO GET OUT OF LINE. I'd been there all week, and I certainly didn't want to lose my place. On the other hand, take one look at these Potter people, and you'll know they aren't exactly… oh, how shall I put this? Equipped to deal with conflict. Therefore… I devised a plan.
It was just about an hour before the Harry Potter books went on sale, and right on cue, here comes Rev. Sparkle with a throng of crazy Christian supporters, waving signs, clogging the sidewalks and spilling out into the streets. This was not good, because the cops could come along, and make EVERYBODY go home—which I'm sure was Rev. Sparkle's intention.
"HARRY POTTER IS THE STICKY BYPRODUCT OF THE DEVIL," screamed Sparkle and his minions. "REPENT NOW, OR FACE WHAT WILL SURELY BE AN ETERNITY OF BATHING IN A LAKE OF FIRE, AND DRYING WITH SCRATCHY TOWELS PROVIDED BY SATAN'S UNRELIABLE STAFF!" (I'm telling you, this Rev. Sparkle guy is weird.)
That's when the trumpets started to blare.
It was an incredibly loud blast of noise that may have been enough to drive the Christians to their knees, but we'll never know for sure—because when I came floating down from the sky, they were on their knees faster than a Catholic school choir boy. (PMF.)
(Note: It really is easy to fool Christians with a loud sound system, some dramatic lighting, and a rope and pulley system attached to a flag pole. As a group, they're a bit gullible.)
I was no longer in my wizard outfit, but decked out in my shiniest, whitest Jesus robes, with a neon halo attached to my head. And thanks to my microphone, and the reverb on the sound system turned up to 8, my voice was booming.
"THE END IS NIGH!" I yelled at the crowd. "IT IS THE RAPTURE, AND I SHALL NOW TAKE ALL GOOD CHRISTIANS UP TO HEAVEN TO MEET GOD, MY HOLY FATHER. ARE THOU PREPARED TO MEET THY MAKER?"
"Yes!!" cried the Christians.
"GOOD! FIRST OF ALL TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES!"
"What?" they asked.
"THERE IS NO NEED FOR CLOTHES IN HEAVEN! REMOVE THEM!"
Reluctantly, they did as I asked.
"I AM PLEASED WITH YOUR NAKEDNESS!" (No, I wasn't.) NOW, RUN DOWN TO THE RIVER, AND JUMP IN. YOU MUST BE CLEAN TO ENTER THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN! AND THEN, WHEN YOU'RE DONE THERE, RUN HOME, MAKE A BUNCH OF SANDWICHES OUT OF THE REFRIGERATOR, AND GIVE THEM TO THE HOMELESS SHELTER. YOU DON'T NEED SANDWICHES IN HEAVEN! FOLLOWING THAT, DO 27 JUMPING JACKS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET, AND SAY, "TAKE ME GOD, TAKE ME! I AM READY TO FLY TO HEAVEN." AND IF YOU'VE BEEN A GOOD CHRISTIAN, WE'LL THINK ABOUT IT. NOW… GO!!"
And off they ran—even Rev. Sparkle—down to the river. Hope they got that sewer overflow problem fixed.
Anyway, the Harry Potter crowd loved my performance, and even carried me around on their shoulders for awhile. That was fun. But I think the part I liked best is when the bookstore owner gave me the very first copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That was super nice. But you know what? To tell the truth, I'm not the biggest Harry Potter fan, so I gave it to the person who was in the very back of the line, and then I left. I had done what I came to do: Make some new friends, and make a couple people happy. Besides, if I didn't leave right then, I wouldn't get a picture of a naked Rev. Sparkle handing out sandwiches at the homeless shelter! (Now I can BLACKMAIL him for an iPhone! Hee… hee… hee…)
Oh yeah… BIORÈ!
Hello, how are you? Me, I'm kind of busy. Because I'm preparing for WAR. Regular readers of this blog already know that I've been living on the street since Wednesday afternoon, hanging out with a bunch of other Harry Potter fans in front of the bookstore waiting for the final book in the series—which is going on sale tonight at midnight! SO EXCITING. Now, I'll admit I didn't give two poots (PMF) about Harry Potter originally, but since I've been out here with some of the Potterphiles, I've become quite a fan myself! (Although it's been brought to my attention that my wizard outfit looks NOTHING like Dumbledore, and Karen's [that's my lamb] robot character doesn't even appear in the Potter books—but they like us anyway! But seriously… why doesn't Harry Potter have a robot character? They fly around on broomsticks, for the love of Pete. How hard would it be to add a robot?)
Aaaaannnyyyywaaayyyy, I'm really learning a lot of the Potter lingo since I've been out here, like, "muggle," "quidditch," "sorting hat," and "horcruxes." (PMF.) Plus I've been sharing some of my own lingo with the Potter fans as well, such as, "Chick-o-stick," "ninja," "high five!" and "poop duck." (PMF.) Oh… I haven't explained "poop duck" have I? That's when you fart and blame it on a duck. (PMF! …but it's still funny.)
But after that? Things started getting bad. Just when we were having a lot of fun, guess who walks up with a TV camera crew? REVEREND SPARKLE from the Victory Baptist Church! (Read some of my previous posts if you want to learn more about him, but in a nutshell, he's a tool.)
"There they are!" he yelled while pointing at the line. "There are the worshippers of SATAN!"
"Who's that guy," my new friend Morgana (she's a goth) asked.
"Reverend Sparkle," I said. "He's a tool."
"These Harry Potter books are manuscripts directly from the pen of the prince of lies," Rev. Sparkle yelled at the cameras, "and these poor souls are lost in its Satanic grasp! These books celebrate witchcraft and sorcery—and they are intended for CHILDREN, no less! If you give one whit for your child's immortal soul, you will BURN EVERY LAST COPY OF HARRY POTTER!"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh… Cramitupyourbutticus," I said. (PMF. Like I've mentioned before, this guy really brings out the worst in me.)
"WHO SAID THAT," Rev. Sparkle cried, whirling around.
"Umm… Jesus Christ," I said. "Remember me?"
"Ohhh… I remember YOU alright! And I'm not the least bit surprised you're here, since you TRIED TO MUG ME!"
(In actuality, I didn't try to mug him—but I did try to get him to give me $500 for an iPhone. Long story.)
"Tell you what, Reverend," I said. "I'm Jesus Christ, so SUPPOSEDLY what I say goes, right? And I say these Harry Potter books are perfectly okay, and you're acting like a tool. So why don't you just run back to your little fairy tale church, and steal some more money from little old ladies?"
That's when everyone on the street cheered. Really loud. And that didn't make the Reverend happy.
"NO ONE talks to me like that," he blustered. "I am a child of Christ, and YOU are a charlatan, a miscreant, a BLASPHEMER…"
"Yeaaaahhhh, and you've been eating ONIONS."
"That's the last time you cross me, Satanist," he said a little too quietly. "I'm going away for the moment. But I'll be back—and before midnight tonight. And when I return, I won't be alone. NO ONE will be getting these filthy books, and I'm going to make it a my personal goal to GET YOU."
"And I'm going to make it MY personal goal to get YOU… a basket of flowers."
"MMMFFF!" he squealed and stormed off.
"YAY, JESUS!" everyone cried. But I'm not very happy. I know Rev. Sparkle is serious about returning and doing something to mess up everybody's fun—and as long as I'm stuck here in line, I can't do anything to stop him. Yet… I can't get out of line! I've been waiting here three days for a book I originally didn't care about, but now care about quite a lot! But what we have here is a war—and these people are looking for me to lead them.
Lucky for them… I have a plan.
Greetings muggles! How are you? Fine, I trust! Me, I'm having a BLAST living out on the street in front of the bookstore, waiting for the new Harry Potter book to come out! BTW, I'd like to apologize for yesterday's technical difficulties, and for Jeremy (he's my shirtless football playing friend) posting that kind of (ahem) sexy (PMF!) picture on my blog. I just wanted him to let you know I was okay, not get you hot. So… sorry. He also apologized for putting up that picture, saying, "I was feeling kind of bloated when that photo was taken—I'll look for a skinnier one." Yeah, Jeremy. WHATEVER.
Anyhoozy, back to ME: I have been sitting here in line since Wednesday afternoon, and haven't slept a wink! Happily, I have sparkling conversation from my new street friends to keep me awake, and a little help from this AWESOME drink called "Red Bull." Ever heard of it? I've had seventeen of them since yesterday, and though my heart is making a kind of funny bumpity-BUMP-bummmmmmp -BUMPITY- bump-bump- bummmmmp sound, I feel wicked alert.
Otherwise, not much has happened, except four things of note:
1) My wizard costume kind of smells bad when it gets wet.
2) People driving by in cars tend to tease a wet wizard.
3) Maybe I should've brought a raincoat, or maybe some food other than Lamb Chow (that's for Karen). (Oh. That's my lamb.)
And 4) It's generally not a good idea to reveal how a very popular book is going to end, before it comes out.
See, I didn't get to read your comments yesterday warning not to reveal the ending, or I would've known that. For those just joining us, I'm not a big Harry Potter fan, so in order to "fit in" with the people outside the bookstore I read up on on the "spoilers" from the new book. When I announced that I knew which major character would die, everyone kind of flipped out; putting their fingers in their ears, singing really loudly, putting some kind of weird curse on me that sounded like "SHUTUPICUS!", and one lady dressed as a British schoolgirl got so upset, she ran into traffic and almost got hit by a car.
These guys take this Harry Potter stuff seriously!
Anyway, they got really mad, and accused me of being a "muggle-phobe" or something like that, and then started insulting my wizard costume, claiming, "You don't look anything like Dumbell Door, and your lamb doesn't look anything like Blobby."
"Well, first of all," I said, "Karen is dressed as a robot, so why should he be blobby?"
"It's DOBBY!" they screamed entirely too loud. "He's a house elf!"
"No, she's not," I countered. "She's a robot!"
"THERE ARE NO ROBOTS IN HARRY POTTER!" they continued to yell.
"FINE," I yelled back. "Why don't you call the young adult fiction police, and lock me up? Look, I don't know anything about Harry Potter, okay? Standing in line with you guys just looked like fun, and I wanted to meet some new friends!"
Well, that outburst calmed things down a bit, and a girl dressed as a ghost who apparently lives in a toilet, or something (?) came over and let me borrow "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" so I could get caught up.
So anyway, that's what I've been doing. Reading a poop-ton of Harry Potter. (PMF.) And guess what? I'm enjoying it so much, I'm already half-way through "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" (that Sirius Black guy sounds scary!).
And even though I know how the entire series supposedly ends, the books are still really exciting—and who knows? Maybe those internet spoiler people are wrong. Or better yet? Maybe I'll come up with some kind of dis-remembering spell so I won't remember how it all ends!
"DISREMEMBERICUS!"
Hmmf. Well that didn't work.
Ummmm… hey. What's up, yo. Ummmmmmm… oh, yeah. Jesus isn't around right now. This is his friend Jeremy? From the high school football team? The one who doesn't wear a shirt? Yeah, that's me. Anyway, Jesus isn't around right now because he's waiting in line for some kind of baby book about a magician or something… I don't know. And he's trying to figure out how to get wifi while he waits in line. So he wanted me to write you this quick note so you wouldn't worry or nothing. He said he'd figure it out by tomorrow, and he'll talk to you then. Want to see a picture of me without my shirt on? Cool. Here you go.
WHOOOOOO! HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL! WHOOOOOO!
See ya.
Hey! How are you? I'm having FUN! You know why? Because starting tomorrow, I'm going to sleep on the street for at least 72 hours! Now, that may not initially sound all that fun to many of you, but believe me—its WAY fun when you're dressed as a magical wizard!
As you may or may not have heard, the final Harry Potter book is coming out this Friday at midnight. And that means tons of Potter fans will be camping out all week long so they can be first in line for the new book! Now, personally, I'm not all that interested in Harry Potter. (Is it okay for me to say that?) It's not that I think he's dumb or that it's a baby book or anything. I'm just not really into young adult fantasy fiction. As you know, I love military techno thrillers! YEAH! BANG! BANG! POW! POW! POW! Exciting.
Anywhosis, even though I'm not a big Harry Potter fan and I've only read like maybe half of one of the books—I can't remember which one… I think it had a spider in it?—I'm going to dress up like a magical wizard and camp out with all the Harry Potter freaks. Why? Because I like to make friends!
So here's my plan: A) I will dress up like a magical wizard. Harry Potter has magical wizards in it, right? B) Karen (that's my lamb) will dress up as a magical robot. Harry Potter has magical robots, right? And C) since the entire plot of the new Harry Potter book was leaked on the internet today, I'm going to learn all about it, and share it with all my new friends so I'll have something to talk with them about. They'll be super impressed with my knowledge!
Well, gotta make my cone hat, and color my beard white. See ya tomorrow! (Also, I'm glueing pieces of an old transistor radio onto Karen's back. So cute!)
How are you feeling? Swell I hope. My feelings are rollercoaster-y. As you may have surmised from my last post, I was on the verge of cancelling my kissing date with Trudy (she's that bank teller I like?) because Damien (my mortal enemy and Trudy's ex) warned me that he implanted some nano robots in her mouth that would knock my teeth out and give me AIDS. Oh. And they would make all future hot dogs taste like pee. Anyweird, I decided NOT to cancel the date because "Jesus Christ always keeps his promises." (While catchy, that tagline can be difficult to live by at times. Why didn't I come up with a tagline like, "You have a friend in the diamond business"?) However, while I wasn't going to cancel the date, that did NOT mean I was going to kiss Trudy on the mouth and risk a life of illness, and dislike of hot dogs. And gumming those hot dogs. Instead of riding our bikes back to her house, where we would eat Nutty Buddies on her stoop, I would feign some sort of emergency, and dash away into the night.
As always, my plan neglected to go as planned.
First of all, apparently I wore too much Axe Body Spray, and the managers kicked Trudy and I out of the theater. Secondly, Trudy's bike tire had a flat, and I had to give her a ride home on my handlebars. Thirdly, it was hot, so Trudy and I broke into a motel pool for a late night swim. Fourthly, she was all wet and pretty, and looking into my eyes, and I started feeling all woozy in my head, and our lips got closer and closer until I suddenly came to my senses and screamed, "NANO ROBOTS!" And fifthly, I swam away as fast as I could.
"Oh, for the love of… what NOW?" Trudy exclaimed.
"Fact or fiction: You have nano robots in your mouth."
"Ummm… I believe that would be fiction," she said. "What in the world are you talking about?"
"Someone informed me that you and I shouldn't kiss because you have nano robots in your mouth that would disintegrate my teeth, make hot dogs taste like urine… and… and… that's kind of ridiculous, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Trudy said. "It kind of is. And that 'someone' you're talking about is Damien, isn't it?"
"Yup."
"Is that also why you stink of Axe Body Spray?"
"Yup."
"Swim back over here," she said.
I did.
"Look," she said. "I don't know what's going to happen with you and me. Maybe we'll date, maybe we'll stay friends, but I'm only going to say this once. Damien was a mistake—and maybe I dated him because I thought you never would like me. But things are different now. I'm fine with the way things are between you and me. Okay? That means if we need to take things slow, then we…"
That's when I kissed her. On the mouth.
It was nice, and confusing, and exciting, and I don't know what's going to happen with me and Trudy—but I'll always remember the two of us in that pool. Her looking so pretty and me kissing her. On the mouth.
And not a single nano robot got in.
(I know, because I ate a hot dog when I got home.)
