What to do? What to do???

Okay, I'm torn. Tomorrow is Halloween and I'm wondering if I should:

a.) Be a decent human being and hand out candy to all the precious little kiddies, or

b.) Just sit on my sofa and every time I get a knock at the door yell, "Thelma doesn't like visitors", or

c.) Answer the door (sans candy) and explain to the little heathens that Halloween is a holiday straight from the anus of Satan and that I'll bet when they're burning to crispies in the pit of hell they won't think their little costumes are so cute then, and the fact that the people next door hand out full-size candy bars just won't really matter. Because in hell your candy will melt. And I would finish with a deliciously evil cackle and then poke them in the eye just so they'd know I wasn't fooling around.

I'll have to think about it. Tough decision.

Take Care,
Babs

Sometimes

Sometimes you're in a relationship and you find that even though you both you love each other very much, the relationship just won't work. And sometimes that makes you sad enough to cry. A lot. And sometimes The Guy Who Thinks He's Boss is decent enough to give you the past week off so you can take the time you need. And sometimes you spend half of that week laying on the couch and crying, but then something clicks and you're okay again. And you get up off your sorry ass and get things accomplished. Like art and shopping and decorating your apartment. And sometimes you're adult enough to know that even if you aren't going to be married, you're still going to love each other and you're still going to be friends. And sometimes you can never have too many friends. Especially ones that know the real you and love you anyway.



Take Care,

Babs

Kinda Like the Shroud of Turin, only Tackier.

What do you get when you take a little terry cloth, some gunky stuff from an air conditioner and a whole lotta imagination? You get Jesus on a towel!

At least, Lucille Lopez of Houston, Tx, does. Lucy claims she used the towel to clean an air conditioner, bleached the towel. Bleached it again. And Jesus still refused to get off the towel. That Jesus sure is one tough stain when he wants to be. I'll bet if she'd used some of that OxyClean stuff that's sold by that really annoying guy that yells during his commercials, Jesus would've been off that towel lickety split. Mostly because Jesus really hates that guy.

Anyway, after the failed attempts at cleaning Jesus off the towel, Lucy then placed the Jesus towel back in the linen closet for her family to use. Her granddaughter, unknowingly grabbed the Jesus towel and when she started to use it to dry her hair, she saw Jesus on it, threw the towel as far as she possibly could, then ran off screaming hysterically and no one has seen her since.

Okay, I made up that last part. But, she really did throw the towel and I can't blame her. I just don't see Jesus as being very absorbent.

I also don't see this air-conditioner gunk rendering as being the face of Jesus, either.

It reminds me more of Ted from Scrubs, who is probably lacking in the absorbency department, as well.




And, who the hell cleans their air conditioner with a towel and then puts it back in the clean towel stack instead of putting it into the rag pile?

Lucy, you got some splainin' to do.

Take Care,
Babs - Who is highly absorbent. Or is that abhorrent? No. Adorable. That's it. I knew I'd get there eventually.

Mmmmm...Moldy Chocolates

Back, Back in the New York Groove

Guess who's coming back to the Apple Grande? (That's Spanish for Big Apple). I'll give you a hint. It'll be a second coming. Give up? Well, I'll tell you who's coming back. It's CocoaChrist! But this is a new and improved chocolate Jesus. You wanna know why there's a new Jesus? Of course you do.

The artist had to make a new son-of-you-know-who, because while the former CocoaChrist was in storage, he was eaten by mice. Did you hear me, people? Jesus was eaten by mice. It was probably some kind of freaky, rodent communion service.

And to make this go-around in New York even more exciting for chocolate Jesus enthusiasts, this time the big J is going to be joined by a CocoaMary and a few CocoaSaints. It's going to be exactly like CocoaHeaven, except that CocoaGod isn't going to make a showing. I think artist dude should make a CocoaLot'sWife. Sweet and salty. Fo' sheezy!

Just so you know, I think New York Groove is one of the dumbest songs ever written. Ever. And I sincerely apologize if you find yourself singing it hours after reading this.

The Vagabond Virgin

Jesus' most holy mama is back and now she's shown up as a stain on a wall in Del Rio, Texas.

Really, Mary. A stain? That's the best you can do? You should learn how to use your imagination. Didn't you watch Mr. Rogers as a kid and go to Make-Believe Land?

And I don't want to be rude or anything, but I think you have a mold problem.

Seriously, that green stuff around you? That's not your aura, or holy light or some kind of fancy "virgin glow". It's mold. I also think there may be some mildew, but I'd have to perform a few highly complicated tests before I was absolutely positive that you were indeed both moldy and mildewy. So don't quote me on the mildew thing.

In any case, you need bleach. Bucket loads of the stuff.

And one more teensy-tiny thing. You look, well um, really phallic. Kinda like a great, big, moldy butt plug.

That's right. I said it. 'Cause I'm as nasty as I wanna be.

Take Care,
Babs

Not Quite the Popemobile, but Darn Close

The Pope, the Pope, the Pope is on Fire

Guess who's shown up as a fiery image in Poland? It's not Jesus, but it's close. It's the pope. Which I'm pretty sure is Jesus' best friend in the whole wide world. And it wasn't the present Pope Benedict Emporer Palpatine, but the former Pope Will He Ever Die John Paul II.

Those pope guys sure do have some long names.

Anyway, here's the picture of the pope in the fire, but once again all the people who see his former popeness in this fire are w-r-o-n-g.

If you look at the fire as a head shot rather than a full body shot, you'll realize that it was Bozo the Clown that was making an appearance in Poland.

No, I don't know why Bozo would be in a fire in Poland, but he's a clown.

And there's no telling what a clown will do.

And, I hate them for it.

She's Got a Ticket To Ride

I've recently become the proud owner of a new car . Excuse me, I've recently become the proud owner of a used pre-owned car. She's a 2007, so she's only barely pre-owned.

I feel the need to give two ginormous thumbs up to whoever came up with the idea that pre-owned was better than used, and that we were just a little bit to dumb to figure out that pre-owned and used were the same fucking thing. So, thanks for insulting our intelligence, asshat!

Anyway, I named my car Jane. She just looks like a Jane, but then one day while reading the manual, I learned that she was made in Canada. I wasn't sure that Jane was an appropriate Canadian name, so I've now changed her name to "Jane-eh?"

And I love her.

Someone Could Have Warned Me

I've been 39 for a total of 10 whole days now, and I've suddenly aged 20 years. I'm not sure how exactly this has happened, but I have examples to prove it. The exact day I turned 39, I suddenly needed to buy reading glasses. How the hell does that happen? How can my eyes be just fine and dandy one day, and then the next I'm struggling to make out the small print on the stupid tag on the reading glasses I'm forced to buy?

And then, a couple of days later, I'm tooling down the road minding my own business when I realize that I'm driving WITH MY BLINKER ON.

So, I feel the need to apologize to the guy in the maroon SUV who was waiting patiently me for me to pull into the right-hand lane. Sorry, dude, but I'm 39 now and obviously that's the age when you start ignoring your blinker.

Then today, while I was driving down the road with my Best of Styx CD blaring, I realized that I really was driving down the road with my Best of Styx CD blaring. Loudly. With the windows down, so others could be a witness to my complete and total dorkiness.

At the rate I'm going, by next month I'm sure I'll have come to the conclusion that my Depends only make me look a little bulky, not like I have an abnormally large ass. I'll be beating the pants off the other bitches at the Bingo parlor, and I am so going to have my Hoveround® totally pimped out.

Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto.

Take Care,
Babs

Desperately Seeking

Once again, weird searches that lead people here. I'm not sure how. Some of them, I don't even want to know how.

• Dollar Tree tampons - I'm gonna have to go with don't. Just don't.



• Tunnel to the land of the dead in the Bible - Turn left. A lot. Then make a right. Then left by the 20-foot bible nightlight and then a right at the Virgin Birth Emporium. No. Your other right. Go into the tunnel, walk for 40 days and 40 nights and before you know it - dead people!
  
  
• Chocochrist cereal - It ranks right up there with Frankenmary. YUMMY!
  


• Jesus roof - Jesus roof? As in the roof of your house has Jesus on it? 'Cause if so, that's just wicked cool. Or, is Jesus on the roof of your car? Sweet mother of god, is Jesus on the roof of your mouth? That could get really annoying. I mean, it's bad enough when you get bread stuck up there and have to dig it off, but I can't imagine what it would be like to have to scrape Jesus off the roof of your mouth.
  


• Euphemisms for Jerry Falwell - dead as a post, kicked the bucket, deanimated, pushing up daisies, toes up, worm food.
  



• How do pirate spiders get their name? From the little patches they wear over their eyes. Well, that and the peg legs. Do you know how noisy a peg-legged spider is?



• Strap-ons unbiblical - Well, technically I'm pretty sure they're not mentioned in the big book. I know Moses' rod was mentioned, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't a strap-on rod. So, strap away!



• Biggest breakout of boils is where? I'm going to guess Sheboygan. 1. Because a lot of strange things happen in Sheboygan, and 2. I just love to say Sheboygan.
  


• Is eggplant supposed to have seeds? Yes, and they're supposed to spell Gid. If they don't spell Gid, that's not really an eggplant in your hand, it's an alien and it's going to suck out your brain. Tough break for you, huh?
  


• How to buttfuck one's wife - Well my good man, you see it's rather the same as vaginal-fucking one's wife, but you do it in her butt. Therefore, the term butt-fuck. Get it?
  


• Peeing in pants poem. - I thought you'd never ask.

Laughter billows like storm clouds
rumbling across a murky plain.
The warm wetness seeps across
chinos picked up at a second-hand store.
As the stain darkens and grows,
the truth crawls from the shadows,
and screams out in a high pitched shrillness,
(not unlike that of a 3rd grade girl)

“Hey! Dude’s peeing his pants.”

I'm sure that poem brought many of you to tears. I know, it's pretty darn touching.

Take Care,

Babs

And Then I Got My Birthday Spanking

This past Saturday was my birthday. My 39th for those who care to know, and to celebrate Thomas and I went to Eureka Springs for the weekend. I know some of you may be thinking that you've heard of Eureka Springs before, and you have. Right here on Flumadiddle. It was on the post where I enticed everyone with the wonderful tourist attractions that Arkansas has to offer. Eureka Springs was the place that offered the gargantuan Jesus. And, guess what? Oh, you'll never guess so I'll just have to show you.

Yes! That's really me and Ginormous Jesus! I can't even begin to tell you how exciting this was for me. Don't we look like we could just take off and fly any minute? The crazy thing is, that's exactly how I felt when I was standing so close to HIM. And since I had the opportunity to get up close and personal with The Great White Jesus, I noticed a few things about him.

1. He has no nostrils and his mouth is closed. This means that Jesus must breath through his eyes, or he has gills.

2. He looks totally baked. I seriously don't think he could pass a pee test right now.

3. He has a concave forehead. Possibly from the crown of thorns, so I really shouldn't poke fun at him for that. It's probably a sore subject with him.

4. He seems completely bored with the whole thing. But that could just be an effect from the great, big doobie he just smoked.

5. His hair is super flat. Product, Jesus. You seriously need some product for your hair.

But the most disturbing thing was....


Ginormous White Jesus is vented.

I'm not sure why.

It could be how he breathes, but I'm thinking it's probably because he gets really hot in that dress and needs a little something to get the air circulating up under there.


And he really is as white as the vent, but the other pictures look darker because Jesus was being bathed in the light of the sunset.

Me and Ginormous Jesus together at sunset. What could be better?

Well, for one thing - this guy lying down on the ground so he could snap the shot of me and Jesus. On the ground, just so I could have a picture. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

The only thing that could have made it better would have been if Church Sign Guy was there.

Take Care,

Babs -who wants you to know that this post was brought to you by the letter fuck, because that's what she said the most while writing it due to the fact that Blogger was being a bitch and not cooperating with her uploading the Jesus pictures.

That was a really long sentence, huh?

Now With More Nuts!

It Takes Two, Baby

Driving home tonight, I had the pleasure of being stuck behind a truck that was sporting a simply fabulous bumper sticker. It read, "Racing...because basketball, baseball and football only take one ball to play."

And then I was all like, OH MY GOD, that's just so unbelievably clever. I get it. It takes a real man with two entire balls to drive a car around an oval really fast. Two balls, as in nuts - gonads. What an adorable play on words, racing fan man. I was surprised that he didn't have one of those nutsac trailer hitch thingies that I wrote about on a previous post that I would link to here, but I'm just too damn lazy to look for it.

Anyway, I really had the urge to flag down racing fan man and ask him, "Oh yeah, buddy? What about juggling?"

Then I had the brilliant idea that, What about juggling? would make for a great bumper sticker all on its own, because it would make the people behind you wonder just what the fuck it was all about.

And I think that's my purpose in life. To confuse people.

That Jesus Sho' Gets Around

I spy Jesus, and guess where he is this time? He's in a factory in Bilston , England. And Jesus is on a workbench, which once againt correlates to his dad being a carpenter and all. I mean his biological father. Not his imaginary dad. Anyway, Malcolm Jones is the one who found Jesus on the workbench and lemme tell ya, Malcolm loves him some Jesus and loves him some bible reading. On his breaks at work he reads not just one bible, but three. THREE. That's more balls than it takes for racing, by the way.

Anyway, here's where it gets confusing. This first picture it looks like the huge head of Jesus. Or maybe some Incan royalty dude, but...

In this neon green Jesus, it looks like his head is up HERE.

Do you know what this means people? It's a double miracle. It's a Jesus inside a Jesus!

But check out the size of that bible. It's huge! Malcolm better be careful where he sets that one down, or he'll end up smashing Workbench Jesus and then wouldn't he feel stupid.

Should you read the article, make sure you check out the comments people have left about Malcolm and his miraculous Jesus.

I especially am fond of:

• I love jesus. hes greaaaaaaaaaat! GO JESUS!


• I think Jesus wants you for a sunbeam, Malcolm. Jesus Rocks!!!!

And comment #24 is extra, super-duper special because it was left by none other than...Malcolm! Here he relates a fascinating story about how after Jesus made his appearance on the workbench, one of the bibles in his bible trifecta has become possessed. Okay, he didn't use the word possessed, but he did state that the pages have started turning all by themselves. Malcolm says that he turned the page, went off to do factory-type stuff, and sweet cheese on a cracker, when he came back the bible was turned to the previous page!!!

Who knew that all these years when I've left books opened and the pages have turned on their own that it was really Jesus messing with me the whole time. Oh, Jesus. You're such a prankster.

Take Care,
The Bablatrice - Now with extra Babla.