As if we didn’t have enough to worry about. Here is a list from my favorite newspaper, the Weekly World News, of reasons why you might just be going to Hell:
“Ninety-nine out of 100 people are damned,” says Jacob L. Pinewood, professor of divinity at Holy Moses College in Jarvis, Australia. “My research indicates God hates us. That’s why He made His rules so ridiculous that the average person will never get into heaven.”
You’re going to Hell if you:
* Can name 10 beers but not one of the Ten Commandments.
* Think WWJD stands “What Would J.Lo Do?”
* Are a whoremonger.
* Can’t stand harp music.
* Wear white after Labor Day.
* Have built a shrine to Michael Jackson, even a small one.
* Have severed heads in your freezer.
* Have occasionally asked God to damn something for you.
* Have considered selling your soul for a Mercedes convertible.
* Sometimes use the Lord’s name in vain, especially when you can’t find the TV remote or stub your toe in the dark.
* Have watched a movie with graphic violence, brief nudity, sexual themes or adult language.
* Use the F word more than once a day.
* Felt powerful and satisfied after squashing an insect.
* Have engaged in sexual acts for reasons other than procreation.
* Have undressed people with your eyes at family reunions.
* Don’t understand what’s so bad about alcohol since it makes you feel so good.
* Ever fell down because you drank too much.
* Ever laughed at or imitated a mentally or physically handicapped person.
* Ever had a bath or shower with someone of the opposite sex.
* Ever had a bath or shower with someone of the same sex.
* Are a homosexual, transsexual, heterosexual or metrosexual.
* Ever rolled your eyes at the mention of Mother Teresa.
* Make a practice of stepping on sidewalk cracks.
* Belong to any organized religion.
* Covet your neighbor’s wife, husband, car, house, donkey or any of their household appliances.
Those paths to pure damnation that I believe we REALLY OUGHT TO THINK ABOUT are in bold.
The Tax Man cometh. The Bug Killer goeth?
Former Democratic Congressman Nick Lampson has filed the paper work that starts his challenge for the seat of House Majority Leader Tom DeLay. Lampson, who served as a county tax assessor in Beaumont, Texas, before his election to Congress, saw part of his district gobbled by DeLay’s lapdog Republicans in the Texas Legislature during their 2003 gerrymandering fest. Part of Lampson’s district became DeLay’s district. My, how special is that?
I can’t say too much bad neither about tax collectors nor Nick Lampson. My mother was a tax collector, rest her soul. Lampson also has always struck me as a decent man. And unless someone finds Nick was sleeping with dead little boys, I think about anything is preferable to that sleazy piece of swamp scum Tom DeLay.
Brazilian Foreign Minister Celso Amorim and Secretary of State Rice: Is tongue hockey far behind?
One guilty pleasure on my unemployed mornings is to surf the morning front pages across the world on Newseum. The Brazilian front pages have most recently caught my eye(s) not that I understand what they say but for the scantily clad women on many of the P1s. On one front page last morning there was what we used to call a “nekkid” woman hiding her assets save for a little bit of the top of her ass(et). It seems even hardliners like Condi Rice get into the free spirit of Brazil as this photo from today’s Diario Catarinense shows her appearing to kiss that country’s foreign minister. Such, sex — for lack of a better term, could liven some of our dull front pages such as the The Wall Street Journal or The New York Times. It also might sell a few more newspapers.
If President Bush can pardon a turkey at Thanksgiving, then Mayor George Wangemann of Gainesville, Ga., can damn sure pardon a chicken. That is, in fact, what the mayor did, according to Access North Georgia.
Wangemann pardoned a chicken named “Cletus T Clucker” as part of the opening ceremonies for something called the First Annual Corkscrew Festival held Saturday. Apparently, this was some sort of wine festival that had a chicken cook-off, minus Cletus, said the story by writer Fokes Link (surely a nom de plume). The Daily Planet-Studebaker Power Quote of the WeekTM is from Mayor Wangeman explaining how Cletus seemed less than impressed:
“After the pardoning, I tried to pick him up,” said Wangemann, “I thought I was going to be scratched and pecked at, but he ought to be grateful for being pardoned.”
He said that the chicken would be returned to the farm, “So, at least he’s pardoned for a day or two.”
So what is next in this burgeoning epidemic of political amnesty for feathered creatures? Will emus go free? Will pigs fly? And perhaps we should check the campaign contributions just to see if maybe Tom DeLay has been secretly pocketing money from PETA!
Fish and whistle, whistle and fish
Unemployment is making me CRAZY!!!!
I am sitting here, thinking about the song from 1967 called “I Was Kaiser Bill’s Batman.” It was a tune by some guy called Whistling Jack Smith. Yes, it was a whistling song. No, I can’t whistle it.
But in obsessing over some song of which I cannot even remember the tune, I have uncovered the motherlode of basic information about whistling songs courtesy of wikipedia.
Brother Bones recorded the whistling version of “Sweet Georgia Brown” used as the theme song of the Harlem Globetrotters.
Muzzy Marcelino whistled the hit theme to the 1950s airplane drama, The High and the Mighty.
Whistling Jack Smith had a hit with “I was Kaiser Bill’s Batman.”
The “Colonel Bogey March” was whistled in the film Bridge on the River Kwai to avoid the song’s vulgar lyrics.
“Whistle While You Work” appeared in Walt Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
“The Fishin’ Hole” (theme to The Andy Griffith Show) by Andy Griffith. It has become a cultural icon associated with the image of Andy Griffith and Ron Howard. Andy and Opie Taylor walk on the dirt road with their cane poles on their way to the “fishin’ hole” and whistle the tune. The music was written by Earle Hagen and Herbert Spencer, and the lyrics were by Everett Sloane.
The liquor store in which I shopped in Waco had a cockatoo that did a great whistling version of the Andy Griffith show theme. I also remember a band called “The Dishes” used to do a rocking version of the song. That was about 20 years ago during my college days in Nacogdoches, Texas. I don’t remember the lyrics to “The Fishin’ Hole.” If you remember them, please don’t tell me. I have enough whistling around inside my brain to last way through REM sleep.