Take Two Deep Breaths, and Call Me in the Morning
And then it happens…
The dude rolls down his window, and throws a Fucking Cigarette Butt onto the Street.
The Asshole spends close to 30 grand on a car because he cares about the Environment (I Assume), and is doing his best to Reduce his Impact, and then He Tosses a Fag Out the Window?
Did I mention he had an “Obama ’08” sticker on his bumper?
Can you feel the Rainbowy Deliciousness?
It quickly becomes obvious this Dude, in his very own Personalized Mystery Machine, is attempting to keep me from Merging in front of him.
Now, let me mention, the Left Lane is, not unlike Chimpy’s Head, completely Empty, Vacant, Deserted, Not a Single Fucking Car for Miles, and the Douche could easily get over without slowing, but instead ends up about Five Feet off My Bow.
I look back, and Shaggy is not only right on my Ass, he’s giving me the Finger. Even Sweeter Than him giving me the Finger is, his Son (Who couldn’t be more than 8 or 9 years old) sitting in the Passenger Seat right next to Daddy.
And it gets better-
Who do you think I spy sitting between them?
How’d You Guess?
It was, Jesus.
The Savior, the Messiah, the Guy who came to Earth in order to Save the Human Race from Itself.
Unfortunately, the Human Race was not so Interested in Being Saved, and subsequently Nailed the Messiah to a Cross like a Common Thief.
However, this turn of events proved to be an Incredibly Prescient Marketing Ploy, as Two Thousand Years Later, the Likeness of Yahweh hanging from said Cross became a Huge Seller.
In fact, Modern Americans are downright obsessed with turning the Likeness of their Butchered Messiah into Knick Knackery.
You’d be hard pressed to find a Home in this Country that doesn’t have at least a couple Mao Tse-Jesus’ Hanging Around.
Salt/Pepper Shakers, Oven Mitts, Figurines (Of all shapes, sizes, and Colors), Clothing, Hats, Cheesy Paintings, Flags, Pretty Much any Idiotic Thing Imaginable (This for Example)-
We loves the Jesus, and will put his Thorn Covered Head on Anything.
And if we can get a couple of Bucks for it?
These days, one of Christ’s favorite Hangouts is the Rear View Mirror.
I guess it makes sense when you think about it.
He is Nailed to that Cross after all, and surely isn’t going anywhere, but…
If he’s hanging on the Mirror of some Asshole’s Mini-Van?
Well, the World is only an Interstate Away.
Imagine the sights Jesus sees as he twirls about like a Martyred Disco Ball.
In hindsight, I guess it’s lucky the J Man could heal himself because it’s Blatantly Obvious we sure as Shit Ain’t Interested in Healing a Fucking Thing.
We love Death, and Violence, and Bury Ourselves in It.
If Jesus had to depend on Humans to heal his Wounds, he’d be up the Proverbial Tree without a Nail Puller.
Which leads us back to Captain Mini-Van.
After a few seconds of “Catching My Draft,” as they say in NASCAR, he Zips into the other lane, and pulls beside me.
Dude is Fucking Foaming at the Country Mouth-
I can only Imagine the Pride his son is Feeling at this Moment, and Jesus…?
Hell, he’s all about the Open Road Mate, he Done Did His Savin’.
It’s Jesus Time Baby.
I look over, and give the Guy my Best Shit Eating Grin sending him Directly over the Edge.
He motions for me to Pull Over, but I Keep Driving, and Smiling-
I’m not interested in Him or his Tiny Pee Pee Syndrome, and at last, there is nothing but the Undeniable Reality of it all. He has no choice, but to Capitulate.
He speeds away with the Son of Man, and the Son of God in Tow.
But in a Final Gesture, One Last “Fuck You” for the road, he Whips into my lane Jamming His Brakes.
And there, on his Bumper, in Nice Neat White Letters for all the World to See-
I laugh out loud thinking-
Although We Live in a World Filled with Messiahs, We Still Have No Fucking Idea Where We’re Going.