Secular Sunday - Biblical Lesson 1

Reading the Bible could be a lot of work and, quite frankly, is probably a waste of time. Unless you are looking for tales of incest, in which case, have at it. But for those of you who aren't looking for extensive guides on weird sexual relationships, I'm boiling down the Bible to the essential lessons. Today: part one.

The text: "Abel was a keeper of the sheep, but Cain was a tiller of the ground. And in the process of time it came to pass that Cain brought an offering of the fruit of the ground to the Lord. Abel also brought of the firstlings of his flock and of their fat. And the Lord respected Abel and his offering, but He did not respect Cain and his offering."

The meaning: God doesn't eat his broccoli, bitches.

Fun Fact Friday - The Little Bonaparte

I do not know a great deal about Napoleon. I learned about the Civil War four or five times in school, but public education does not care about history beyond the bounds of the United States apparently, no matter how handsomely someone can be painted on a horse. Related: I would like to be painted on a horse.

"I'm so fucking composed right now, bitches." - Napoleon

But today's fun fact is about Napoleon. Well, technically, about his penis. Yeah. Penis.

Fun fact: Napoleon's penis was cut off during the autopsy and given to a Corsican priest.

Allegedly. But something claiming to be Napoleon's poorly preserved, and hence, leathery cock made its way to New York City in 1927 for display. There various penis aficionados, as they would probably prefer I did not call them, described the penis as akin to beef jerky, an eel, or a buckskin shoelace.

"Why, yes, it is just me again. If you want a dick pic, may I suggest porn?" - Napoleon

The meta-penis was purchased by a urologist in the late 70s and taken to (where else?) New Jersey. Allegedly, the Jerseyan piss doctor kept the cock under his bed. I assume for safe keeping. Or to have it ready at a moment's notice if invaders came to his home in the night. The urologist's daughter inherited the penis upon her father's death and has evidently been offered $100,000 for it. Either she is holding out for a better offer, or just can't seem to let go of Napoleon's little Bonaparte.

Fun Fact Friday - Goodbye Forever

Well, it has been fun, dear reader. With the apocalypse upon us, I really think I ought to say farewell and wish you all luck in your glorious afterlives. I, myself, am looking forward to a lovely time in Hell. To believe Dante, some parts of it sound rather adventuresome!

But let's be real. I'm not going anywhere, bitches. And neither are you. The world is not ending. So all the desperate virgins on twitter can calm the fuck down.

Do you know how many apocalypses I have already survived? The number is around 35. And that is just since my birth in late 1990. Anyway, for those of you concerned about future end of days predictions, I have the perfect fun fact.

Fun fact: If you plan on being raptured, you can sign up to email all your left behind chums after a few days.

Yup. There's a website. For only $14.95 you can send "suck my dick, sinner!" emails to up to 62 of your closest (ish) friends and family who you think probably won't be saved by the Jesus. The service, provided by youvebeenleftbehind.com (because you need a catchy name for shit like this), will email "one last message to the lost, at a time, when they might just be willing to hear it for the first and last time" six days after the rapture.

All of the classy.

"Now," I like to imagine you asking, "who sends these rapture emails?" Evidently the company has four Christian couples (with one alternate couple) spread about - so as to avoid the terrestrial concerns like "being wiped out by attack, natural disaster, or epidemic" - who must log into the system daily. If  three of the four couples fail to log into the system on any given day, the rapture has come!

And don't worry, the chief Christian running this service is pretty sure we'll still have the internet during the tribulation period, so everyone who has not been saved can still get that one last salvation email. The internet won't be raptured, dear reader. You know how much porn that shit has?

Sims get saved apparently.

And I wish, I wish, I were bullshitting you. But this is Fun Fact Friday. So I'm not. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed your apocalypse today, dear reader. Until next time, then...

Awkward Cow

This cow is only awkward because her holiday celebration is a bit off. Her costume, on the udder hand, is all of the classy.

Yup. I made that pun. Deal with it.

Secular Sunday - The Real Veggie Tales

It has been far too long, dear reader, for which I apologize. But if you have been pining for me, perhaps this inordinately long post will make up for it. Today I bring to you the confessions of Larry the Cucumber, famed (or at least well known as far a vegetables go) actor from the Christian filmic series, Veggie Tales. A tale of faith for the holiday season...

Vegetable actors are not in high demand. It is something I have no problem saying about the industry. Certainly I have made my career in film, but some of the work I have taken over the years... well, let's just say I'm not proud of every job. Most people are only familiar with my major work, Veggie Tales, and it troubles me to say that is the work I am not proud of doing. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for everything Phil and Mike did for my career. I mean, before I met them I was only doing modeling work for grocery stores. I am a damn good looking cucumber, but I knew that I wanted to be an actor. Phil and Mike changed that for me, but still, Veggie Tales doesn't capture the true life of vegetables.

I will not deny that vegetables are filled with Christ's love. That is, in fact, widely documented. Not a day goes by when I don't raise my eyes to Heaven and pray that my faith will be just as strong as I have seen in so many carrots, zucchini, and stalks of broccoli. And yet, despite my knowledge that all vegetables are confirmed Christians, I find myself troubled. The story lines are so unrealistic. Vegetable pirates? Really? And aliens? I'll be the first to admit that vegetables need Christ as much as anyone, but vegetables aren't pirates. Why did Phil and Mike feel the need to corrupt the sanctity of vegetable life as it truly is? People need Jesus in everyday life and so do vegetables. There is no need to embellish story lines with extravagant adventure tales, when I and the other vegetables I see in the supermarket everyday are already in the fight of our lives to keep our faith alive.

I mean, just the other day for example, I was talking to my good buddy, Bob the Tomato. He and his friend, Tommy, went over to the farmers' market they set up down on Main Street every Thursday. Now, I know Tommy is a cliché name for a tomato. His parents just weren't that creative.

So they go over to the farmers market. Tommy's girlfriend had dumped him, but he was looking to get back out there. I personally don't look to the farmers' market when I'm looking for a lady. A lot of those organic girls can be, well, a little high maintenance. But they went over there, were chatting it up with some girls, getting on pretty well to hear Bob the Tomato talk. Then, out of the blue, they notice one of the girls is just snatched up. Kidnapped! In broad daylight! If that isn't a reason to pray, I don't know what is.

The story doesn't even end there. Bob and his buddy Tommy start noticing other tomatoes being picked off. They're trying play it cool, figure if they remain calm in the mayhem, maybe they'll be okay. So Tommy is chatting up another girl. Hits it off. I mean, Bob says there were definite sparks. Then, Tommy's new girl gets taken. He starts crying out to Christ. Praying. Just calling out to Jesus, asking for a little help, a little mercy. “Christ, why have you forsaken me?” you know, the whole deal. Next time a hand comes down, Tommy throws himself at it. He wants to go after her and save the girl. Noble, but stupid as ass. Bob's been praying for the pair of them for a week.

Tough situation. I feel bad for Bob. It's been awfully rough on him. I mean, we've all heard the stories. I met a potato a few weeks ago, goes by the name of Walter. Good guy. He'd seen his share of horror though, let me tell you. I mean, Walter's story is an inspiration.

He was pretty young when he got taken out of the ground, away from home. Then he was separated from his family. He told me they put him in a bag with a bunch of other potatoes he didn't know. Bag was dark, crowded. They were moved around for a while. Finally, the sack is opened up. Walter and a few other potatoes are taken out. They are scrubbed raw. Walter says he's heard he was lucky. Some people shave the skin off their potatoes. But not Walter and his comrades. They were the lucky ones. This woman, who scrubbed them down comes back with a knife. A fucking knife! She cuts up one of the potatoes in front of all of them. Then throws the bits of his body in boiling water. As if he hadn't suffered enough! Walter is the last potato left on the counter. The woman sees that she missed a spot when she scrubbed him. Puts him down for a second. Walter see his chance and throws himself off the counter, praying every minute of it for salvation.

Lucky for Walter he gets out of there and manages to find his way to safety. He wouldn't tell me about all the things he had to do to keep himself alive. Too devastating, he said. But can you imagine? I mean, he watched friends murdered in gruesome ways. I know the only reason he is alive today is his faith. I mean, without Christ, he would have given up. So honestly, you think we need pirates and aliens when our lives are enough to make anyone, man or vegetable, shit himself?

I've seen people struggle with faith too. I mean, it's hard not to question God's teachings sometimes. After all, why would God protect the swine and the hare from being eaten by man, but not save us vegetables? We don't have cloven hooves or chew cud, and yet we're clean! So sometimes it feels like I've been a bit forsaken.

Not only that, but we're tempted just as much any human by greed or lust or any other sinful notion. My own father, he fell victim to lust. He met this really pretty cucumber blossom, and he told me that they just couldn't contain themselves. They weren't married or anything and they just went crazy. I mean, my dad couldn't help but get pollen on his stigma. He was thinking with his stamen instead of with his eternal soul. That's why I'm here: the bastard son of an unholy romp. The other cucumbers used to call my mom the whore of Babylon. But you never see that in the movies! It's all glamor and glitz with theVeggie Tales movies, never truth.

All this leads me to the major problem I have with Veggie Tales. Mike and Phil are bearing false witness. First of all, they're fabricating lies about the vegetable community through their story line embellishments. They make our everyday lives look like a piece of cake when, in fact, I know carrots who live in constant fear of becoming a piece of cake. They defile truth through impossible scenarios!

On top of that, as much as it pains me to say this, I am not a vegetable. Neither is Bob the Tomato. We're fucking fruits! Forced to lie about who and what we are by the industry. Jesus, forgive me for living this lie for so long. I know convention has placed me in this role, but I long for truth, botanical truth. Jesus, it is your truth! Let this facade be broken down and let the world see me as I am: a fruit, crushed by the status quo, but a fruit that will not cease the battle now begun, the battle to enlighten the masses to the pure truth of my identity and your existence. God, I shall be your prophet for the vegetation of this world, for I am now an unencumbered warrior cucumber of Christ!

Until next time, dear reader...

Fun Fact Friday - What's Thick, White, and Salty?

Chowder, of course! Come now! I was going to do a fun fact about theater or hotels, because I happen to be in a play set in a hotel this weekend. And I like to link things in my life together so I have fewer things to think about. But then, today at lunch I had some New England Clam Chowder and then I started reading about chowder (because I am the kind of person who looks up shit about her lunch) and I found a delightful fact.

Fun fact: The Maine legislature introduced a bill in 1939 to make it illegal to add tomatoes to a chowder.

Essentially a move to tell New Yorkers and their Manhattan claim chowder to go fuck themselves, the bill did not pass. Why is it that "go fuck yourself" bills never seem to make it anywhere? This is yet another reason I could never hold public office. I would introduce all sorts of fuck off resolutions just to be an asshole. Because I kind of am an asshole.

I would, however, like to offer you this lovely quote from Time:

"For decades, New Englanders have viewed tomatoes in clam chowder as an affront to the very essence of soup."

I did not know I was so offended by tomatoes. I mean, I certainly find it objectionable that people are always going on about how tomatoes are a fruit, and people never grant the same courtesy to eggplants or zucchini! Which are all fruit, by the way. Also ovaries. I would explain, but I have given you one fun fact for the day and really that is all I promised.

But back to soup. Perhaps I should be offended by Manhattan clam chowder as a New Englander. But I can't say I am. There are so many delicious soups. Why must we bicker about the perfect winter day meal? They took Crossfire off the air for a reason. And if it wasn't because Jon Stewart shat on Crossfire while on Crossfire, it was probably because people just wanted to eat their damn soup. Goodness knows I do.