Today's Topics:
Eating Chinese Take-Out with Jesus
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Date: Wed, 4 Nov 92 01:27:33 -0600
From: Reagen Ward <ward@hydra.cche.olemiss.edu>
Message-Id: <9211040727.AA00566@hydra.cche.olemiss.edu>
To: Subgenius@mc.lcs.mit.edu
Subject: Eating Chinese Take-Out with Jesus
Cc: msms@athena.mit.edu
Just the other day, as I anxiously awaited the rapture, I had a fantastic experience.
There I was, frantically going from Burger King to Burger King, in hopes of seeing Jesus or Elvis.
Old ladies with blue hair wandered around, mumbling to themselves about the new
grandson and how he won't hear about the King's legacy. I went on regardless.
Finally, evening came. Disappointed and disillusioned, I wandered homeward.
On my way, I passed a nice three foot concrete wall with a short bearded man skating
on it, doing great acid-drops and pulling a little air here and there.
He looked kinda like a jewish carpenter, with a robe, sandals, etc, and a nice
skateboard deck. I shouted out to him pleadingly,
"JC! What about the rapture?"
His reply was simple.
"Shit, ain't got time for no rapture! I gotta skate!"
His words of wisdom rang true in my ears. I watched him skate a bit more, and around dusk,
he skinned his knee pretty badly (shoulda been wearing pads) so we went out, grabbed some
take-out fried rice and egg rolls from China House, and sat down for dinner.
"So, tell me JC. What's it like to be the Son of God?"
"Shit.. Everybody expects miracles from you! It ain't no life to envy, that's for sure."
When we cracked our fortune cookies, mine read:
DON'T LOOK UP.
"Hey, JC. Whatcha think this fortune means?"
I looked up, and he was gone.
In his place was the fortune from his cookie. It stated simply:
DON'T WHISTLE WHILE YOU'RE PISSING.
-Reagen B. Ward
(Mojo Nixon sez that my name is in fact Rufus, but I'll leave it up to you.)
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End of Subgenius Digest
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