In Part 1 we discovered that if good vibes, free pastries and threat-free socializing are your thing, you’d better get your ass to church! We also learned of a couple of downsides for the youngsters, and here in Part 2 I’ll let you in on a few caveats for the adults. Otherwise known as…
Things that are SO BOGUS about church
While these are not necessarily deal breakers, the following are definitely worth knowing before you go in!Read More »
Q: Are God’s farts pretty bad?
A: Not just bad. They’re omni-potent.
Recently I was perusing breasts on the Internet, while clacking my teeth together and emitting high-pitched mewling noises (how we quadriplegics express ourselves sexually), when I was distracted by this important question. I immediately closed all 23 browser windows and began formulating helpful insights.
SHOULD I GO TO CHURCH?
The answer is YES, definitely! There are several reasons this is a terrific thing to do, which I will outline below.Read More »
My year abroad wasn’t all drinking and going to shows and eating butterhams. I also took some trips. Here are my travel notes.
Rotterdam. A historic seaport city from the glory days of the Dutch empire. Amazing harbor. Impressive mix of grandiose stone architecture and grubby industrial monstrosities. Lots of public urination, old men mostly. Strong contender for dogshit capital of Europe.Read More »
It took a while to make friends in Holland. The Dutch are not the most outgoing, and I wasn’t either at the tender age of 18. There were these two metalheads in my art class, Ruud (typical Dutch name), and Bart (character from The Simpsons). Their English sucked, and so did my Dutch, but we bonded by comparing band logos we’d drawn, and reciting random lines from metal songs in a deadpan voice. Like this…
RUUD: You will die. You will fry. ME: You never learned, so now you’ll burn.
[RUUD and BART nod approvingly]Read More »
Soon after I graduated high school in 1988, I left my family and Kenai to be an exchange student in The Netherlands, or Holland. Or Dutchlandia. Or whatever it’s called. I chose Holland mainly because all the other kids who wanted to be exchange students wanted to go to France or Germany, and I had to be different. Even so, it was hard to be that different since those were the only three countries any of us knew about. (We knew about Canada, but since that’s just Alaska with metrics, it didn’t count.)Read More »
What do you call a cross between a CHAIR and an IDIOT?
So I’m sitting in my chariot like usual, contemplating my two favorite topics, SEX and THEOLOGY. After thorough pondering, and then literal minutes of Googling, I reached an unavoidable and totally rational conclusion: GOD IS COOL WITH ANAL.
Now in full disclosure, I have not heard directly from God Himself on the matter, nor does His Holy Word, the Bible have much to say, contrary to popular belief! More on that in a minute. Nevertheless, by examining the FACTS and applying LOGIC, you too will see that GOD IS COOL WITH ANAL.Read More »
North Kenai wasn’t an official place, it was just the area north of Kenai. To get there you took the road north out of Kenai, the North Road to we locals, but officially named the Spur Highway. Only cops and paramedics and the like called it that, though (as in: Spur Highway mile 18, behind Dick’s Arctic Welding, teen gas huffing in progress, over!).
The real name for North Kenai was Nikiski, and if you lived further north than us, past the refineries and the elementary school and closer to where there was a grocery store and a fire station you called it Nikiski. But the elementary school was called North Kenai Elementary, and that was good enough for me. Plus, that is where I learned that Nikiski means moose turd in the local native language, so of course as a kid I wasn’t going to go around saying I was from Moose Turd. Duh.Read More »
I wonder if a stranger and I exchanged life lessons recently, or if I just learned something after hurting her feelings. I may never know.
A cold, drizzly, early-December Saturday morning, the fam and I are going to pick up a Christmas tree. I am in a shitty mood. In addition to my usual stack of discomforts there are a few extra piled on: no parking near the tree lot; broken, bumpy sidewalks make my hand keep slipping off the wheelchair’s joystick so I’m driving all hurky-jerky; I’m overdressed and overheated, except for my hands and feet, which are freezing; my hood keeps falling over my eyes and I have to keep gyrating my head around so I can see.Read More »