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Chocolate Jesus

Chocolate Jesus

 

Believe me, I know my title is the same as a Tom Waits song…who would know that better than me? Just part of what I remember as I look back at Easter as a child and how weird all of it seemed to me.

First of all the first time you’re told about the reason for the holiday. There’s this guy Jesus and he’s the son of god. Then because he is the son of god, a group of people get pissed at him and kill him by nailing him to a cross…then he comes back from the dead.

“Whoa, wait a minute…he comes back from the dead? He’s a zombie? A Vampire?”

“No, he’s still just Jesus.”

“But, he came back from being dead? Are you sure this isn’t why we celebrate Halloween?”

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Enjoy the Holiday?

Happy St. Patrick’s Day. You can watch the virtual parades and get into a drunken argument with somebody on Zoom. At least you won’t get punched in the face this year…What’s that, the first time since 1998?

Anyway, try to enjoy the second consectutive St. Patrick’s Day that you can’t go out.

Actually this year is better, you can go out and stand six feet apart. Again, this keeps you from getting punched in the face…Just don’t start shit with a giant.

Anyway, the Irish Festival has been pushed back until September. I’ll write about St. Patrick’s Day then.

Since we are kicking this one down the road, I guess we can celebrate one we weren’t able to fully appreciate last year. I better get some candy.

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It’s Not a Big Deal

No Big Deal

 

We have a chance to break the record for snowiest winter ever…So, we have that going for us. I can’t remember a more miserable winter and with everything else we’re dealing with, it’s like piling on.

With Valentine’s Day approaching, and I only know that because I actually have my shows this weekend, it made me think back to last Valentine’s Day.

It’s really not a big deal for me. I’ve worked most Valentine’s Days because it’s a day when people go out. It’s a day when bars and restaurants are able to gouge you with special menus. Basically the same food as every other day but it costs twice as much on the heart shaped menu.

Hey, if people are willing to pay, why not charge more? Restaurants aren’t the only ones. This weekend you’ll pay four times as much for a dozen roses as you do the rest of the year.

“Here, I just spent a hundred bucks on something you’ll be throwing in the trash in three days. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

This is definitely not a day geared towards men. It goes against all of our principles. We have to spend money, we have to try to be romantic…OK, maybe there’s only two principles. That’s why women tell us we’re shallow.

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Goodbye 2020

Hey 2020…Bite Me!

 

Usually, on the last day of the year, I reflect on the year gone by. Looking back at the good times, accomplishments and hopefully not too many bad times. Not this year baby. 2020 can kiss my ass goodbye!

Never has there been a year more despised than you. We celebrated and welcomed you in and look how you treated us. Had we known in advance we could have skipped the champagne toasts and just flipped you the finger.

You started off OK. We had a mild January with little snow. The Groundhog promised us an early spring, things were looking good. Then you turned on us and it was vicious.

It came on so fast that I wasn’t prepared. By the time I went searching for it, the idiots had bought enough toilet paper to last them until 2030. Then the tissues, paper towels and napkins disappeared. People were going to have some way of wiping themselves.

Then, when I couldn’t even find furnace filters, I knew we were in desperate times…seriously people? I mean…wasn’t that kind of rough?

You shut us down, made us wear masks, and kept us from seeing family members…OK, that part wasn’t so bad.

We couldn’t touch our faces. We were sanitizing and washing our hands while singing happy birthday to ourselves, twice. Before this year, if you walked into a restroom and saw a guy singing happy birthday to himself, you would have walked back out. Hold it in until he left and then you could sing to yourself.

I’m at the point now, if I use a public restroom, I wash my hands before I urinate. My thinking is, what if I contaminate my penis? Then later, I might touch my penis and then my face. Or, on the right occasions, my wife might touch my penis and then my face…OK, there’s a better chance of me doing it myself…But, there’s always that hope.

Also, don’t look into this as some kind of weird thing we do in the Knight House. I was just trying to make a point of not wanting the virus on my penis.

We stopped saying “goodbye” or “see you” and replaced it with “be safe.” Before 2020 if you said goodnight and heard “Be Safe,” you would have responded,

“What does that mean? What do you think I’m going to do?”

Alcohol sales skyrocketed because 2020 wasn’t the kind of year anybody wanted to hang around with sober. You were annoying and a pain to be with. I know you don’t care that I say that. You’re not the kind of year with any feelings.

When we shut down in March, it was supposed to be for twenty one days. I thought I would be back to performing no later than May. But you were ruthless 2020. It just kept getting worse.

Things might not have been as bad if people had listened to science instead of the “My Pillow Guy.” Of course we had no leadership during all of this. Just a hapless buffoon telling us to drink bleach.

It’s bad enough that you’ve kept me from what I love most, performing, but now 2020, you’re starting to enter my dreams. The other night I wouldn’t get on a crowded elevator because…well, it was crowded and nobody was wearing a mask.

Obviously, the people in my dream weren’t taking the pandemic seriously. I may be overly cautious in my sleep. I don’t think you can catch the virus in a dream. It’s not like Freddy Krueger is it?

You can’t be too careful, even when you sleep. I mean, when are you more likely to let your guard down and touch your penis and then your face?

Let’s end this now 2020. I don’t want to see or hear about you anymore. Getting rid of you is like ending a horrible relationship. Nobody here is going to miss you. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass…as a matter of fact, bend over and I’ll use my boot instead.

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