The Second Coming

Part II {Read the first part in the previous post. An Overdue Conversation}


I’m fresh up out my coma…

I got my Momma and my Daddy and my homies in my co’na…

It’s gonna take a miracle they say…

For me to walk again and talk again but anyway…

I get, fronted some KIs…

To get, back on my feet…

And everything the homie said came to reality…

Living like a baller loc…

Having money, and blowing hella chronic smoke…

I bought my Momma a Benz, and bought my boo boo a Jag…

And now I’m rolling in a nine-trizzay L Dogg Rag…

Wait a minute. Those are the lyrics to Snoop’s ‘Murder Was The Case.’ Sorry about that…points off my grade.

Everything promised, to me, came true. Obviously, the big guy is no liar; we all know he is great and powerful. Especially after he saved that Dorothy chick and her little dog!

****** (Most people credit Paris Hilton with creating the little doggy trend, but Dorothy was the true O.G. when it comes to rolling with a miniature pup. She also started the red bottoms craze…that girl was way ahead of her time.) ******

I sat on the balcony of my beach front mansion and watched the waves crash into the unlucky bathers who are probably wishing that the Pacific Ocean was a few degrees warmer. As I sat thinking of a billion dollar invention to heat up the shark infested water, a star appeared in the sky. I was amazed at how bright it was. The star wasn’t brighter than the others; it was the only visible light through the thick Los Angeles fog. For a few seconds, it appeared that the star was getting closer, and the light grew blinding.

Little did I know; this was no star. I was being visited by an angel.

Angel: “God evening.”

Me: “Hello. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Angel: “I am angel.”

Me: “I am human.”

Angel: “No, moron. My name is Angel.”

Me: “Oh…my bad. I was wondering why god sent a slow angel.”

Angel: “Don’t you mean retarded angel?”

Me: “No. You can’t say that word; it offends people.”

Angel: “You know I can read your mind; I know you wanted to say ‘retarded.’”

[I laugh.]

Me: “So, when is Jesus coming…no homo?”

Angel: “Don’t you mean ‘when is he coming…extra homo?’ You know I can read your mind.”

[We laugh.]

Me: “Definitely not. Keep on playing and I’ll send him back an extra virgin.”

[He laughs.]

Angel: “Ok. I guess there isn’t really anything to do, other than give you his arrival date since you seem prepared.”

Me: “Great! What day?”

Angel: “He will be here tomorrow.”

[The angel disappears.]

I didn’t sleep well that night. The anticipation of Jesus returning to earth was too much excitement. It only makes sense for the big guy to choose me as The Christ Chaperone…I guess I am the second coming of the apostle Peter. Unlike the previous guy, I am not sharing the limelight with anyone else.

I was awakened by a bright light. I struggled to open my eyes, but I was finally able to make out a man standing at the foot of my bed. He appeared to be of Indian decent.

Me: “Who the hell are you?”

Figure: “It’s me, Jesus.”

Me: “Why the hell did you choose to be Indian? Do you not know that most of the billion citizens are not Catholics? You’re definitely not a big deal over there.”

Jesus: “Of course I know. I’m going to convert them once they see my new face.”

Me: “That’s actually a great idea.”

Jesus: “Yeah, dad knows what he is doing.”

Me: “I’ve been waiting for you. I hope you’re ready! I have a slut in the other room and she is ready to yell out your dad’s name.”

Jesus: “What? That’s too early…I’m not ready right now.”

ME: “WHAT? I can’t believe you’re freezing up again. You’re dad is going to be pissed.”

Jesus: “I’m not freezing up…I just want to do it with a girl I choose.”

Me: “How long is that going to take?”

Jesus: “I don’t know…maybe a couple nights.”

[I start laughing.]

Me: “I’m just messing with you.”

Jesus: “Oh…yeah; I knew that.”

Me: “Sure! I see that you didn’t get any of that ‘all knowing’ stuff from your dad. You definitely got your smarts from your uneducated mother.”

Jesus: “Who said my mother was uneducated?”

Me: “C’mon. Everyone knows women didn’t go to school back in those days.”

[I wink.]

Me: “The good O’le days!”

Jesus: “The what?”

[I laugh.]

Me: “I’m just kidding.”

Jesus: “What are you going to do when you end up in Heaven and have to face my mother.”

Me: “Not sure…depends if she is a M.I.L.F. or not!”

[He grows angry.]

Jesus: “What did you just say?”

[I can’t help but laugh.]

Me: “I’m just kidding…I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Jesus: “I’m not sensitive; I just didn’t hear what you said. I have had trouble hearing from my left ear, since the crucifixion.”

Me: “Oh, damn. I didn’t know. Why can’t your dad fix it?”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “You’re an idiot. I have the power to perform miracles and you think I have a bad ear?”

[I laugh.]

Me: “I’m definitely slipping.”

Jesus: “No…you’re just dumb.”

Me: “Let’s go do something.”

Jesus: “It’s your town. You tell me what we’re going to do.”

Me: “Actually, your dad pretty much owns the entire universe so it’s really your town.”

Jesus: “Now that I think about it, I don’t know if I should trust an idiot with this decision; ths is my first night.”

[I begin to sing.]

Me: “If I could walk on water, would you believe in me.”

[He shakes his head.]

Jesus: “I hate that fucking song.”

Me: “First of all, the song is great, and secondly, who the hell said you can curse?”

Jesus: “I can do whatever the hell I want. What are you my mom?”

Me: “No, but I am your chaperone and you will respect me.”

Jesus grows larger and spreads his arms out over his head and begins to yell.

Jesus: “You shall Respect ME!”

For a second, the room goes black. Suddenly, I seem to be tiny. I look in the mirror and discover that I am now a ladybug.

Me: “Change me back or…”

Jesus: “Or what?”

Me: “Or…or I will not help you get laid. I’ll tell women that you are a virgin. Annnnd a pedophile.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “I’m not a fucking pedophile.”

[I laugh.]

Me: “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to you swearing.”

Jesus: “It’s not that big a deal.”

Me: “Yes it is. And yes, you are a pedophile.”

Jesus: “You’re an idiot.”

Me: “Ok, you’re not a pedophile, but your priests are.”

Jesus: “They’re not my fucking priests.”

[I laugh.]

Me: “C’mon. Just change me back.”

Jesus: “Ok. But first, you have to beg.”

Me: “Just change me back.”

He crosses his arms and bows his head quickly. I turn back into myself.

Me: “What the hell! Did you just pull a genie move from the television show?”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “You know it.”

Me: “Seriously. We have to set rules, because I’m not dealing with that type of nonsense.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “Now look at who is sensitive.”

Me: “Ok, we don’t need rules, but you can’t abuse me. I’m trying to help you out.”

Jesus: “Alright, I get what you are saying.”

Me: “Cool! Let’s go, jerk.”

Jesus: “What did I do to deserve that?”

[We laugh.]

The night turned out to be a success. We got some food then hit up a few bars in Hollywood. Jesus was a big hit, and it appeared that he was ready to lose his virginity.

The following morning, I woke up early and made some breakfast.

Jesus: “That smells good. What did you make for breakfast?”

Me: “Some eggs, bacon and home fries.”

Jesus: “Sounds good…I’m starving.”

Me: “Yeah, I woke up feeling the same way.”

Jesus: “Where is my plate?”

Me: “I didn’t make any for you.”

Jesus: “What the hell?”

[I shrug my shoulders and continue to eat.]

Jesus: “Why didn’t you make some for me?”

Me: “It’s every man for himself around here.”

Jesus: “That is very selfish of you, but not a problem.”

[A plate of food appears on the table.]

Me: “Must be nice!”

Jesus: “Yup!”

Me: “Did you have fun last night?”

Jesus: “Yeah. It was great.”

Me: “Did you see anything worth a poke?”

Jesus: “On Facebook?”

[I shake my head in disapproval.]

Jesus: “Sorry, but I had to.”

Me: “I guess.”

Jesus: “I did like the girl from the pizza place.”

Me: “Oh yeah! I completely forgot about her. You stole my phone and texted her all night. You missed out on some hot chicks.”

Jesus: “Not really. I like Cece.”

Me: “So is she the one?”

Jesus: “Yeah, I think so.”

Me: “When is it going down? Or should I say, when is she going down?”

Jesus: “She’s not some random whore…I’m going to take her out on a proper date and let things happen as they will.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. Let me rephrase. When are you going to bang the slut?”

[He gets annoyed and shakes his head disapprovingly.]

Jesus: “You’re a moron.”

Me: “When is the date?”

Jesus: “I’m meeting her this afternoon, and we’re going to hang out all day.”

Me: “Sounds like a lot of work. If I had the power to perform miracles, I’d be on chick number 17 by now.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “I don’t think we are looking for the same thing.”

Me: “You’re right about that. I have no desire to land in the friend zone.”

[He shakes his head.]


Jesus left the mansion to go on his date with Cece. I waited up all night, but he never returned. The following afternoon, I decided to sit by the pool until he finally arrived.

Me: “There he is. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something different about you.”

Jesus: “No. I’m exactly the same.”

Me: “Are you serious? What the hell did you do…spend the night and read Bible versus to each other?”

Jesus: “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Me: “What happened? Did you freeze up?”

Jesus: “I don’t feel comfortable talking about what happens between me and Cece.”

Me: “You mean Cece and I.”

[Jesus is annoyed.]

Jesus: “Ha ha. What is that…a you banged Cece joke?”

Me: “No, I was correcting your grammar. You said me and Cece, but you are supposed to say Cece and I. You are truly your mother’s son.”

Jesus: “Who cares. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Me: “Are you fucking kidding me? You are going to tell me every single detail, or I’m calling your dad.”

Jesus: “How do you plan on doing that?”

Me: “I don’t know…pray, I guess.”

Jesus: “If you must know, I am no longer a virgin.”

Me: “Are you serious? I can’t believe it…my little boy is a man.”

[I wipe away fake tears.]

Jesus: “It was the greatest night of my life.”

Me: “Better than the crucifixion?”

[I laugh.]

Jesus: “You’re the dumbest person I know.”

Me: “What happened?”

Jesus: “I’m not going into personal details. All you need to know is that I performed and she was satisfied. P.S. I am no minute man…Lionel Richie was definitely singing All night long.”

[I laugh.]

Me: “I need some details.”

Jesus: “I can tell you that I plan on hanging around for a while.”

Me: “What? What the hell are you talking about”? Don’t tell me you fell in love.”

Jesus: “Cece is great and she has some great ideas.”

Me: “What kind of ideas?”

Jesus: “We were talking and I want to have a son; he will be the next Messiah.”

Me: “Son? Tell me you strapped up.”

Jesus: “You think I waited two thousand years to wear a condom?”

Me: “JESUS CHRIST! I hope you pulled out.”

Jesus: “Of course not. She is on the pill.”

Me: “Oh my GOD! You’re dumber than I thought. That’s what all the groupie whores say.”

Jesus: “She isn’t a whore.”

Me: “I can’t believe this chick might be pregnant.”

Jesus: “There is no might. If I want her to be pregnant she will be, but if I don’t want her to be pregnant, there will be no child.”

Me: “What the hell? I thought your church was against abortion.”

Jesus: “It’s not an abortion.”

Me: “Whatever you say buddy. Sounds like an abortion to me. Good for you.”

Jesus: “You’re a complete idiot.”

Me: “Can you please explain to me why the hell you want to have a child with this chick?”

Jesus: “If I have a son, he can help to convert the non-Christians and bring the entire world together.”

Me: “That’s a dumb idea.”

Jesus: “It’s Cece’s idea and it’s great.”

Me: “I can’t believe this. Two thousand years and you finally get some pussy and you lose your damn mind.”

Jesus: “You’re too dumb to understand the importance of me having a child.”

Me: “You don’t even know this chick and you’re ready to make her the mother of the next Messiah? What’s her real name…I need to do a little background check.”

Jesus: “For what?”

Me: “Because you were born from a virgin and we don’t need your son born from some Biblical groupie slut.”

Jesus: “You don’t even know her.”

Me: “Neither do you.”

Jesus: “Give me your phone.”

[He enters her name and loads her Facebook profile.]

Jesus: “Here.”

Me: “Good! At least you know her name. Let me see. Damn, her page is private.”

Jesus: “Check again.”

Me: “Jeez, you can really do whatever you want.”

Jesus: “Not really. You don’t see me killing you.”

Me: “Relax, I am on your side.”

Jesus: “I can’t wait to tell my dad about Cece’s plan.”

Me: “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jesus: “Why not?”

[I hand him my phone.]

Jesus: “What the hell is this?”

Me: “That’s Cece’s ass and half of those comments are from guys who clearly have tapped it.”

Jesus: “That’s not necessarily true.”

Me: “NO? Why don’t you call her and ask?”

Jesus: “No problem.”

[He takes the phone and enters the house. He then returns after a long conversation.]

Jesus: “This sucks!”

Me: “What?”

Jesus: “She’s a fucking whore.”

Me: “She admitted it?”

Jesus: “It’s kind of hard for people to lie to me.”

Me: “Oh yeah. Wait…I’m confused. How did you not see this with all of your super powers?”

Jesus: “I don’t know. I guess my mind was clouded because of the sex.”

Me: “Yeah. That makes sense. What did she say.”

Jesus: “She planned on getting pregnant and making me grant her wishes instead of child support.”

Me: “What the hell did she think…that you were the Genie from Aladdin?”

[We both laugh.]

Jesus: “I don’t know, but some of you humans are fucked up people. I think I’m ready to go back. I don’t want to risk sleeping with some super whore who strips me of all my powers.”

[I laugh.]

Me: I don’t think you have to leave, just remember to let your dad do the planning from now on. You’re definitely your mother’s son.”

[He laughs.]

Jesus: “I can’t wait until you have to face her.”

Me: “She seems like a nice lady…I think I will be alright.”

Jesus: “I’ll sleep on it and think about staying.”

Me: “Stay a little longer and we’ll have a blast.”

Jesus: “We’ll see.”

{The End}



The “G” Card

There are some challenges that arise when someone becomes enlightened and discovers the truth known as atheism. I don’t mind having to repeatedly explain myself when asked, “how did you manage to figure out there is no ‘god’ why don’t you believe in ‘god’?”

Although I love being an atheist as much as a Catholic priest loves dressing up as Santa Claus and having little boys sit on his lap during Christmas, there are a few occasions in which I must pull out my “g” card. Sometimes, it’s just not worth my effort to explain that I am an atheist.

Here are some of the rare occurrences where I fake being a believer and pull out my “g” card:

{1} My mother is religious and she always says some form of, “’god’ be with you,” after any conversation. There is no point in saying anything else other that “ok!”

{2} Whenever one of my favorite teams lose, I like to say, “Why have thou forsaken me, ‘god?’ Fuck you and your son Jesus!” Even though there is no “god,” this usually bothers any believer within earshot, which makes me feel better about the loss. If people can thank their lord and savior after a win, I should be able to do the opposite after a loss! After all, “god” made words and words don’t hurt! Wait! I think I got that wrong; “god” made dirt. Who the hell made words? (I don’t know who came up with the “god” made dirt thing, but the person is clearly an idiot because anyone who has been hit with wet dirt knows a great deal of pain is involved!)

***Don’t bother calling me an asshole; I’m proud of that fact!***

{3} I always pull out my “g” card any time someone plays my favorite, Tim Tebow’s favorite, and without question the greatest religious song known to man; Rich Mullins’ Awesome “god”!
I think it’s dumb to say “’god’ is good,” because I was taught that good is not good enough, but saying our “god” is an awesome “god” is amazing! (If I had the choice between a good “god” and an awesome “god,” I’m going with the awesome one every time!)

Can one of you “keepin’ it real” rap artists please make a remix of this song? PLEASE!!!

Awesome “God”

{3} In order to keep myself humble, I usually break out my “g” card so I can appear to have the same intelligence as someone who believes in the existence of a “good” deity who has more deaths under his belt than the “bad” semi-deity.

I never knew “god” was a serial killer! (These numbers come from the “good” book!)

{4} I haven’t done this yet, but if I happen to be under the influence of alcohol and I run into some “good” girl who only sleeps with pious men, I will have no problem breaking out my “g” card! (“God” forbid she sleeps with a nonbeliever!)

{5} If I ever walk past the local abortion clinic during lunch and the angry mob of protestors, holding assault rifles and other powerful automatic weapons, ask if I’m pro-life, I first answer, “yeah, I love living!” They are usually pisses off by my response and threaten to kill me. I then say, “who are we to question ‘god’s’ plan? Speaking of plan, we can avoid all this nonsense if these women would just go to their local drug stores and purchase that plan b… never mind!”


The Mythical U. S. Education Problem

A major focus during the 2012 Presidential election was on the so called “education problem” in the United States of America. President Barack Obama and “governor” Mitt Romney each vowed improve the performance of American students. I agree that education is extremely important, but there is one problem; the United States of America does not have an education problem.

Our schools are filled with capable and caring instructors, who enter their respective buildings on a daily basis, prepared to educate the future leaders of the free world. Often, most members of the faculty arrive to work early, and leave well after the final bell.

These teachers also spend a great deal of their personal time, preparing lesson plans and grading the work of their students. Obviously, there are some exceptions. I’m not gullible; every teacher isn’t performing at the highest level. There are some instructors who barely do anything, but the majority of teachers are hardworking and caring.

I know what most of you must be thinking. “What the heck is this guy talking about? There is a major problem with the U.S. education system.”

I understand why you would think such a thing, but let me be clear; you are wrong!

I hear all the complaints about overcrowded classrooms and the lack of teaching materials, but that’s a bunch of nonsense. I’ve been in college classrooms with over a hundred students and everyone seemed to find a way to learn.

I will never believe that a classroom with forty, prepared and well-behaved, students cannot learn.

The American students are under-performing compared to their contemporaries around the world, but the problem is not the system. We do not have an education problem; we have a parenting problem!

A teacher can only do so much. Education begins at home, prior to the students attending kindergarten, and then continues inside each household, on a daily basis, whenever students return from school.

Without proper and consistent parenting, teachers will never be able to instruct their students. I would estimate that most teachers spend half of the school day fulfilling the parenting duties that each student is not receiving at home.

There are too many cases of children being raised by their grandparents, because mom and dad are too immature to get their lives in order.

These days, parents are more concerned with sending their child to school, wearing the latest fashion, rather than ensuring that the STUDENT is prepared to receive the day’s lesson.

Children should have the ability to solve basic math problems and read at their current grade level; these are the fundamentals of education. A child should not be able to recite popular and inappropriate songs, while mimicking the overtly sexual dance moves. That’s just bad parenting and a recipe for creating a future dropout.

More to the point, I know there are some parents, who think it’s cute when their child uses profanity, but a foul-mouthed child is one of the biggest parenting failures; a true tragedy.

To sum up my point, It’s pretty basic; if you find that your child “ain’t lurnin’ nuttin’!” The problem is you; not the teacher!


Are There Any More Heroes

Recently, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) announced that the seven Tour De France victories by Lance Armstrong will be wiped from the history books. I think we will all remember where we were when the news broke. (I was somewhere in the city of Los Angeles, or possibly Pasadena; no wait, I might have been in North Hollywood…Maybe even Alhambra, Alta Dena, or Highland Park. Anyway, I think the point has been made!)

On the day of the “shocking” news, America lost a hero. Millions of children who aspired to become great cyclists had their dreams crushed. (*In this instance, the term “Millions” is a substitute for the number three!)

I did my best to gather up enough strength to make it through the day, but I definitely felt like I lost a piece of my heart. (More than likely, it was the part that gives a shit!)

Although the news of Lance’s cheating ways stripped the nation’s children of a great hero, I was comforted to know that there were others for the future leaders of the free world to look up to. Regretfully, I have the unfortunate task of bringing down some more heroes.

This news is particularly devastating to those of us who grew up in the 80’s and 90’s. After more than two decades of denying the use of performance enhancing drugs, we learn that the “good” guys were actually “bad.” The IOC ordered the retesting of DNA samples and they were able to produce positive results for several “heroes.”

As suspected, King Gregor’s castle was protected from the evil Duke Sigmund Igthorn and his ogres, by Cavin’s rogue band of cheaters. What is more shocking is the identity of the person who concocted the illegal potion.

Grammi Gummi has finally been caught. Her powerful Gummiberry Juice contains Tetrahydrogesttrinone, a previously undetectable steroid. The inhabitants of Gummi-Glen can no longer claim to be clean. From now on, whenever the “Dashing and daring, Courageous and caring, Faithful and friendly, With stories to share. All through the forest, They sing out in chorus, Marching along, As their song fills the air. Gummi Bears!! Bouncing here and there and everywhere. High adventure that’s beyond compare. They are the CHEATING Gummi Bears!”

Although the Gummi Bears have been found guilty of “juicing” I am pleased to announce that Cavin was unaware that the Gummiberry Juice was tainted. He is still a hero! Cavin is devastated by the recent events, but he plans to continue his relationship with the Gummi Bears. He did add that the other bears declined to comment for this story, but Grammi said, “I was only trying to create a way for us to help others!” (I guess she never heard of hard work!)

     Here are the cheaters:

From left to right: Cubbi, Sunni, Gruffi, Zummi, Tummi, Grammi.

Gusto Gummi is also guilty.

     Today is indeed a sad day! For those of you who are unaware of these cheaters, I provided a link to the first episode of the show. If you grew up watching the Gummi Bears, be prepared to have your hearts ripped out!

Disney’s Adventures of the Gummi Bears

If performance enhancing drugs invaded the impenetrable walls of the Disney Corporation, nowhere is safe!