Carl's Tiny Brain

This year, I promise I will -

- stop asking the Chuck E Cheese waitress if she knows the current threat level.

- buy a dictionary and finally look up the meaning of the word "resolution."

- drink a glass of tang without saying "that was tangy" and giggling.

- confess to my children that they were not adopted, after all.

- stop asking my wife if she thinks Jesus knew how to swim.

- spend less time outside, more time online, and gain 30 pounds.

- feed the replacement cat.

- stop leaving things unfinished.

-

- find the man who shot my pa, and force him to draw.

- stop carrying rolls of pennies to the nudie bar.

While I'm in a religious mood, here's a quick photoshop Editorial Cartoon:



Last Sunday, our pastor told his first of two jokes (there are exactly two in each of his sermons.) It was that old dirty joke about the woman who tries to teach her parakeet not to curse. He realized midway that he couldn't tell that joke from the pulpit, so he changed it. He rambled for about five minutes, then told us the parakeet (whose name was "Chippy") was accidentally sucked into a vacuum cleaner. He concluded by saying it was a very sad thing, indeed.

Several ladies from the handbell choir were sitting in front of me and muttering amongst themselves as to the story's meaning. It had absolutely nothing to do with the scripture (micah 5) so I explained it to them. The moral is: "it sucks to be Chippy."

I guess I spoke a little loudly, because the pastor gave me one of his "I hate Carl" looks. I earned my last "I hate Carl" look for using "abracadabra" instead of "amen" whilst saying grace in the fellowship hall.

It rattled him so badly, he forgot himself and told an off-color jew joke. On Christmas Eve. In Church. In front of six hundred people. Apparently, Jews are cheap, money-hungry, godless people.

It must be because they aren't members of the most exclusive methodist church in town.

Does anyone else find it peculiar that - somehow - what God hates always coincides with what you hate?

At significant risk to her immortal soul, my protestant wife has finally acknowledged the existence of evolution.

Not the big and scary "Moses was making stuff up" evolution, but the harmless little "bacteria evolve immunity so you’d better take your antibiotics properly or you’re gonna meet Jesus" evolution.

My wife and I often discuss our differing core beliefs. They usually take the form of a Socratic debate. Somehow, I always end up playing the role of Socratic fool. Must be a guy thing.

Anyway, I finally won last week with the "bacteria" point. I had to share my triumph.

Other points frequently argued but never won:

1. If it’s been over a month, who washed the dishes last doesn’t matter.
2. Whoever is foolish enough to feed the dog has to clean up its poop.
3. If laundry tags were meant to be read, they’d be on the outside of clothes.
4. Thieves are not actively trying to steal my identity. Nobody wants to be me.
5. Jehovah’s Witnesses are not "company."

I've been working tirelessly on 100,000 pretentious words of literary fiction.
Don't worry - I'll never complete it.

In the meantime, here's your sign:



Yesterday in traffic I was behind a woman who was talking to a cellular phone.
In the far left lane.
Going 10 mph below the speed limit.

She had one of those ubiquitous "Jesus" fishes glued to her trunk.

I think it's there because that's what one says when one is behind this woman.

Jesus.