A funny thing happened to us on our most recent journey to the Salvation Army©. On our never-ending quest for bizarre and obscure artifacts, we scour the thrift shops monthly for black velvet paintings of Elvis, conch shells that resemble Nixon, tiny pewter figures of Hitler, Tiki mugs, and "Hello Kitty" pencil cases. Well today we found something quite odd. Much to our suprise, while sifting through the used underwear box, we found a crudely crafted porcelin statue of our Lord and savior- Jesus Christ. We made the sign of the cross, then placed the little deity lovingly into a tattered D-cup bra and put him back in the box, as we continued to rummage. Then it happened. Out of nowhere, we heard muffled mutterings. At first we thought it was the effects of last nights booze and we continued to search the box, but it grew louder and clearer. It could not be ignored. We looked at each other in disbelief as we realized where the sounds were coming from. We uncovered the statue and found the lil' Jesus glowing inside his bra cup! "HEY! Whattya stupid? Im Christ, for my sake! What's the big idea, dropping me back in the box? W-why I oughta! Which one of you guys got a smoke? Buy me, you schmucks!" The little statue scolded us, much to our shock and disbelief. Checking the back for batteries, we realized this was neither a joke nor a toy, but instead, a holy miracle that God himself had bestowed upon us!
Elated, we brought the statue to the counter to share our wonderous find with the clerk. We placed the mini-God on the counter and demanded him to bear witness to the word of the Lord. But to our dismay- Jesus clammed up, leaving us looking like three oafs. No matter how badly we pleaded, begged, or tickled his nose to make him sneeze- he would not say a word. Unamused, the clerk told us to get out before he called the cops. So we threw him a quick beatin', stole the Christ, and went on our way. On the ride home, we questioned the miraculous event that had just taken place. Had Christ spoken, or were we just three drunks suffering from the DT's? Then out of nowhere, the shy savior chimed in. "HEY, where we going? Who got a smoke? Who are you three bozo's? Stop at Taco Bell, I'm starvin', Jackass." Spiting him for his stunt back at the Salvation Army, we gave him the silent treatment in return, just to let him know how it felt.
Once back at P.I. headquarters, we were eager to flaunt our miraculous discovery so we placed him on the mantel next to our diamond-studded bust of Liberace, and invited everyone in to see our Dime Store Jesus™. Once again- the shy savior wouldn't say a word. Then we realized- he would only confide in us, and us alone. So we visit the statue daily, to rejoice in the words of the Lord. Cranky and appalling as they may be. And as a public service, we bring his words to you! So sit back and bear witness to the prophecy that is... our Dime Store Jesus.
Tuesday: "Hey, gimmie the yellow pages- i'm callin' the pound! Your friggin cat knocked me over for the last time!!"
Wednesday: *singing* "I'm.. too sexy for my shroud... too sexy for my shroud... So sexy yeaahhhhhh!"
Thursday: "Wha?? Nah, i'm tired.. c'mon, leave alone... no, i'm not doin' it.. ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!! BUT IT'S THE LAST TIME!... *waving arms*.. OPEN SEZME!! ... alright, show's over.. (under breath) I hate it when they make me part the friggin' pool!"
Friday: *slurring* "...Hey Moses... *HiC*.. I got ya burning bush... RIGHT HERE!" *giggling*
Saturday: "Well, here we are guys... last.. day ..*sniff*... of the page.. *hiding emotion*... you know... I'm gonna... *holding back tears*.. miss it.. WHAHAHAHAH!! DIDJA THINK THE SON OF GOD GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOU 3 AND YOUR STUPID-ASS WEBPAGE? WELL, THINK AGAIN, YA RETARDS!!! Now, go get your ol' pal Jesus a pack of marlboros and the latest copy of Juggs™, or i'll turn you pricks into lepers so fast, your head'll spin! Thanks, Slappy!!!"
Sunday: "ZZZzzz..." (day of rest)
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