Today has primarily consisted of more reading of Jack T. Chick religious tracts (They’re addictive!), though I did have to venture out into the world to attend a training at work.
Well, I didn’t have to, but I chose to.
Unlike the training I had on Monday, this one actually was specifically related to my job, and was thereby at least slightly more interesting.
Also, one of the people presenting the information was actually a fairly hot chick.
She was a little too hawk-nosed to be really pretty, but she wasn’t bad looking at all, and she seemed to have a pretty smoking body.
That fact alone made it a little difficult to concentrate (especially since she was sitting next to me), but the presence of her almost constantly visible underwear added further distraction.
She was wearing hip-hugging jeans while her black (non-thong) underwear was fairly high up on her waist, so about two inches of her unmentionables were visible, depending on how she was sitting, above the top of her jeans.
Still, I managed to get through it without spending too much time staring, and I think I learned something.
Maybe.
What did I learn? Something about underwear, I think…
Once I returned home it was back to the tract reading, which has been considerably more informative than the underwear training was.
So far I’ve learned that playing Dungeons & Dragons is incredibly dangerous, and will ultimately lead you into practicing witchcraft.
(In a related article posted on Chick's Web site, the D & D expert Chick consulted commented on how often he receives mail from people telling him that he's wasting his time attacking Role-Playing Games. He said one typical response he gets from defenders of RPGs is that he should devote his time to "real" issues, such as social justice, the plight of the poor, and so forth. His response was, "Satan would LOVE that." So apparently, as we'll see in a bit, not only does God hate engaging in meaningful acts of charity and community service, the Devi, conversely, loves them. )
In all honesty, the fact that D & D will lead you on the path to witchcraft is pretty sweet, since, according to the tracts, real magic actually works! One girl cast a spell on her dad to get him to stop hassling her about playing D & D, and not only did he stop hassling her, he went out and bought her $200 worth of D & D supplies! Score!
The ideal circumstance, then, would be to get into witchcraft, use it to get everything you want out of life, learn how to predict the future so that you’ll know when you’re going to die (According to other tracts, this is determined and announced well in advance of the actual event, as both sides [God and the Devil] need to have time to put together last minute strategies for recruiting the nearly departed. The period shortly before you die tends to be kind of similar to “Sweeps Month” on TV, apparently.), then, right before you die, drop down on all fours and repent. That way you’ll have had a kick-ass life and you'll still manage to avoid the Lake of Fire.
The other thing I’ve learned is that not only do good works not win you any brownie points, they’re apparently reserved strictly for chumps. In fact, if anything, God seems to be even more pissed off with you if you devote your life to helping others. So the message seems to be never help anyone.
Of course, if you’re really, really keen to help people out, rather than building hospitals or volunteering at homeless shelters, you can simply give out Jack T. Chick religious tracts to people and tell them all about the Lake of Fire.
So instead of becoming a firefighter, or joining the Peace Corps, or working to cure cancer, consider simply accosting total strangers and telling them about the time we murdered God, and how that act can assure us a place in Heaven.
Young people who are simply “hanging out” seem to be especially receptive to this technique, by the way.
But anything else, like working to remove children from abusive homes, or providing vaccinations to people in third-world countries is just going to royally piss God off.
But if that demonic spirit of volunteerism and community service is still eating away at you, go ahead and volunteer...just be sure to bring plenty of tracts with you, and never forget that your sole purpose in volunteering is simply to create more opportunities to get people down on all fours and a-repenting.
Still, I can’t help wondering why it is that God pays no attention to the good things people do, but obsessively keeps track of all of the bad. Why so negative, God? Quit being such a downer. Nobody likes people who are always pointing out problems and never handing out kudos. Come on; it won’t kill you to give out the occasional “Attaboy!”
Turn that frown upside down, and remember that old song: accentuate the positive, eliminate the negat-
Oh, right, music is from the Devil, and, as presented by Jack T. Chick, God has no face, so who knows if He’s frowning or not.
Either way, just lighten up a little big guy. Did you ever think that maybe you’re the one with the problem? After all, you don’t see healthy people going around tossing missionaries and Nobel Peace Prize winners into a Lake of Fire, do you?
Maybe if you’d talk about it we could figure what’s really bothering you and find a more constructive outlet for those bad feelings than constantly hurling people into the Lake of Fire.
Maybe we could even consider some medication.
At the very least it seems like you could use a hug.
Ah well, I guess that’s enough casual blasphemy for right now.
I’ve found another Nick Cave song that’s captured my attention. It’s called “Are You The One That I’ve Been Waiting For?”
I have to say that it seems all too painfully familiar. I especially like the “ice age” line...
Last night on “Blind Date,” as part of what seemed to be a theme for this week, another couple got married. This time, though, it wasn’t two daters getting married while actually on their blind date. Instead it was a couple who had first met on “Blind Date” sometime back, continued dating, got engaged, and then agreed to have their wedding recorded for broadcast.
Under normal circumstances, many brides, in response to jitters and the generally nerve-wracking nature of weddings, can get a little…well, there’s no better word than “bitchy.”
These, of course, were not normal circumstances, and this particular bride-to-be seemed to have more of a natural inclination in that direction than most women to begin with, so I have to say that the day before the wedding didn’t seem to be an especially happy one for her, and she was making it her business to ensure that it wasn't a happy one for the groom either.
Despite her best efforts the groom managed to remain pretty relaxed.
In a total role-reversal, though, the day of the wedding found the bride relaxed almost to the point of being in a coma (champagne seemed to help in that regard), and, as he waited at the chosen location for her to arrive, the groom became progressively more agitated.
He was not exactly thrilled to see her when she arrived more than an hour late and a little drunk, especially since it was well after high tide on the beach where they were getting married.
In an angry move that he will be regretting for the rest of his life (and beyond, if his wife can find a way), when asked if he would take her to be his lawfully-wedded wife, he hung his head and stood in silent consideration for several minutes before saying “I do.”
With the two weddings and a couple of other highlights, I have to say that “Blind Date” was especially entertaining this week.
The ultimate moment, though, for me at least, came in the form of a disastrous turn of events on a date that had otherwise been going very well.
Amazingly well, actually.
Mocca, a dreadlocked wedding singer and playa extraordinaire (that’s the view he seemed to have of himself, at any rate), had found himself a sure thing in the form of his date (whose name escapes me, so we’ll call “Tramp”).
Tramp was a very, very attractive young woman, and very early on in the date she made it absolutely clear to Mocca, and anyone observing, that he was going to get lucky.
In fact, short of handing him a written affidavit certifying that she was going to have sex with him, there was absolutely nothing that she could have done to make this fact any clearer to him.
This annoyed me more than a little, as Mocca was exactly the kind of sleazy creep who should never have good things happen to him, but to whom bad things almost never happen. Once again, most likely as it had for most of his life, fate had handed him an underserved golden opportunity in the form of Tramp.
However, in what for my money may have been the greatest moment in the history of television HE BLEW IT.
He took a 100% guaranteed sure thing and absolutely destroyed his chances.
I sat on my couch, clapping my hands together in a geeky display of giddy glee when they stood outside his door and Tramp said, “You know, I don’t think I’m going to come in tonight.”
In his post-date wrap-up Mocca concluded that Tramp’s real name ought to have been "Tease," but that clearly wasn’t it. She hadn’t been leading him on; it was clear that she had fully intended to rock his world up until the moment that he blew it.
So what did he do, you ask? Well, as mentioned, his chances with Tramp were assured. All he had to do was wait for the cab to deliver the two of them to his place, take a minute to record his post-date impressions for the show, and then he was all set for a night of wild boot-knocking.
Instead, Mocca decided to try to pressure Tramp into having sex in the cab, in the presence of the cab driver, cameraman, and any other crew members who may have been present (the cab was a mini-van).
Ten minutes. If he had been willing to wait ten lousy minutes, he would have been set.
I could wait ten minutes with both hands tied behind my back...
Ah, that particular train wreck was truly a thing of beauty, and it almost made me believe that there is such a thing as justice in the world.
Almost.
The only thing that would have been sweeter would have been to let out a “Haw-Haw-Haw!” as Mocca was tossed screaming into the Lake of Fire…
On another episode of “Blind Date,” though, I did encounter a real injustice.
I totally forget the names here, so we’ll go with “guy” and “chick.”
Guy shows up to pick up this chick for their date. He’s a little on the cheesy side, bringing her flowers and a teddy bear, but hey, at least he was trying.
The guy had a little bit of a playa-wannabe vibe going on, but overall he seemed decent enough, and he definitely didn’t deserve what followed.
The onscreen graphics at one point describe the chick as “The Reason Men Don’t Understand Women.”
I have to say that was a pretty accurate assessment.
Throughout the date as the guy makes attempts to initiate conversation with the chick, she totally ignores him, and we have to suffer through the most painfully awkward silences I’ve ever encountered. Even in my own life I’ve never encountered anything that horribly, horribly awkward.
The chick just won’t say anything. The graphics indicate that there was “something” that he did at the front door that set her off. As a guess I was thinking it was the fact that he asked for a hug as they met, but while that was a little creepy, I didn’t think it warranted the kind of cold shoulder she was giving him.
But it wasn’t that anyway.
After several mostly silent hours she finally gave him the rundown.
Apparently what he did, in her mind, was much worse than asking for a hug.
What did he do?
His face, apparently, betrayed a visible reaction to the fact that she was attractive.
Essentially he appeared pleasantly surprised by her appearance, which is a terrible, terrible thing to do, as, according to her (once the floodgates opened she wouldn’t shut up again), if he had confidence in himself, he would never have been taken aback by the fact that she was good-looking.
If he had simply taken it in stride as a given, or as if it were somehow his due that his date would be attractive, things would have been okay. But no; he was surprised, and therefore was a complete bastard who didn't deserve any chance to prove himself to be a decent guy.
All I can say is that’s it a damn good thing he didn’t actually say something about her being attractive.
In any case, the end of my day is rapidly approaching, and I have some more tracts to read. I may also attempt to finish a nearly complete picture of Jessica Simpson.
It’s not the unfinished one I posted last week, though it is from the same set and in the same outfit.
For some reason I never got back to that picture.
I didn’t touch the bikini picture either. That one I might end up scrapping and starting over completely.
There are also several Alley Baggett pictures I’d like to draw.
*Sigh* If only the “so many women, so little time” thing applied to some aspect of my life other than my plans for drawing.
Then again, odds are if I did encounter more women I might accidentlally indicate that I find them attractive, and then I'd be out in the cold anyway...
No comments:
Post a Comment