Can’t believe I just said what I just said: I Dig The Pope. He washes feet, kisses disfigured faces and calls-out criminal bankers who’ve reduced capitalism to a sham.
Heard about Jesus the way you’re supposed to hear about Jesus, through word-of-mouth.
I don’t read books unless they’re signed by the author. If Vonnegut wrote it, I’m in. If Carson McCullers wrote it, I’m in. If Samantha Irby wrote it, I’m in.
Mark Twain, David Sedaris, Chuck Palahniuk. In, In, In. But if it’s written by the hand of God, there’s no way in Hell.
I don’t get into a book to be controlled. I get into a book to be provoked.
The number 2 greatest thing about the Declaration of Independence are these words scribbled on parchment “All Men Are Created Equal.” The number 1 greatest thing about the Declaration of Independence are the signatures at the bottom.
But there’s no discounting the fact of the matter: the hand on the document was mortal, not divine.
For the love of God, I have a hard time processing why we’re putting non-violent drug offenders in jail. I have a hard time processing why they’re even called “offenders.”
There’s nothing offensive about it.
If it’s not for you, it’s not for you. End of story. If you take offense, you’re a jerk. Get over yourself. Or get some new friends. Judge not lest thee be high on magic mushrooms.
Let’s talk about things which are really offensive, like…
Politicians who twisted the use of torture into enhanced interrogation techniques, and discredited our collective humanity. You know, politicians who haven’t been perp-walked.
Members of Congress who twisted themselves into welfare queens, earning $174,000.000 a year, regardless of job performance, for life.
You might be surprised, but I don’t want Members of Congress perp-walked. They’d enjoy the spectacle. Instead, I think it would be much more satisfying to watch them on C-SPAN, in perpetuity, in orange jumpsuits.
In fact, on Capitol Hill, the required attire should be orange jumpsuits. Why not? There’s precedent.
Afterall, the Supreme Court requires diva robes and tantrum hammers.
Police dress the part. Astronauts dress the part. Nurses dress the part. Roadside trash picker-uppers dress the part. The Pope dresses the part. It’s time Members of Congress dress the part.
Let’s see things for what they really are, like…
Obstruction isn’t debate. Fox isn’t news. Care isn’t affordable.
Diet Soda has nothing to do with losing weight. If you ask your waitress to make an extra trip for a lemon wedge, you’re not fat because you’re lazy, you’re fat because you flushed your humanity down the toilet with your last dump. And the hole in your soul is bottomless.
There’s no reason to call a judge “Your Honor.” Not when he’s only there to exploit loopholes and take care of his lawyer buddies by doling out inflated legal fees like Christmas Bonuses.
God forbid you ever represent yourself in court Pro Se. It’s a farce. Pro Se is latin for “Lube Your Asshole Before Court And Don’t Forget To Bring Your Checkbook.”
I’m not bitter. I’m clear. I’m seeing things clearly. And it’s not the residual effect of magic mushrooms. Or maybe it is.