Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" My, what a mighty wind we had here! And six inches of rain! There are trees down, and power outages, and limbs in the streets, and every waterway is flooded. All up and down the East Coast, everything's a mess. Poor Asbury Park! I looked at some YouTubes, but none of them were good enough to post here. Suffice it to say that tourist season is over for that boardwalk.
Guess who is to blame for this hurricane? God!
http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/ticket/bachmann-claims-hurricane-earthquake-were-god-messages-politicians-155051199.html
Busy God, sending messages to the politicians in Washington, DC. The message? Politicians spend too much taxpayer money. Except now the politicians will have to spend even more taxpayer money to clean up after the hurricane! Who is the dummy here: God, or Michele Bachmann?
The smart money's on Michele. What a moron!
The good news out of Chateau Johnson is that all of our trees survived and we only lost power sporadically, like any old thunderstorm.
Now, mind you, I didn't leave the protection of my household and its residents up to pure chance and the vagaries of weather patterns. Oh no! I petitioned safety of a whole slew of bored deities: Chac (see below), Hurracan, Oya, Oshun, and Triton. And because They weren't busy sending a message to Washington, DC, They put up a celestial wall of safety around my house and loved ones!
If you are visiting this site because of all my dissing of Cindy Jacobs and other Christian warriors (of which Michele Bachmann is clearly one), please ponder this a moment.
A leading politician claims that the God of Cindy Jacobs caused an earthquake and a hurricane -- serious, deadly stuff. My bored gods, on the other hand, quietly and efficiently saved my family from harm, while feeling no particular need to send a political message to Washington.
Busy deities get blamed for everything. Bored deities aren't burdened with such baggage. So, why go with the god who feels the need to send messages in a showy, destructive way? Seek ye the bored gods and goddesses who have the time to care for you, and the gentility not to use major weather systems to make a point.
The word of the bored gods, for the people of the bored gods, thanks be to the bored gods! Yep.
Showing posts with label buzzard-hating morons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label buzzard-hating morons. Show all posts
Monday, August 29, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Do Not Visit Staunton, Virginia
Staunton, Virginia is one of the portals to the Skyline Drive. It is also a Washington, DC exurb full of museum quality morons.
The residents of Staunton are being visited by a winter flock of vultures. Staunton's response to the visitation is to try to scare off -- or kill -- the buzzards.
And the reporter at the Washington Post who wrote about Staunton's big, ugly problem was too lazy to Google and try to find other towns with similar winter vulture roosts.
If the Washington Post reporter of record, Darryl Spears, had done his proper research, he would have discovered the enlightened borough of Wenonah, NJ, which inherited a winter vulture population and has since made a clear profit of $10,000 on an annual Vulture Festival.
Speaking of the ever-popular East Coast Vulture Festival, it will be held on the first Saturday in March, 2011. At this festival, the children of the region will learn the following Religious Truths:
*Just because someone's droppings stink, that doesn't make them bad.
*Vultures do not kill kittens, puppies, or anything that isn't already almost dead.
*Vulture roosts are a WINTER season event only. As in winter, when it's cold. In the spring, they disperse.
*Vultures do not kill pine trees.
*Vultures only throw up on people who try to shoot them with paintballs. (LOL, that was in the Washington Post story. Someone had it coming!)
*Vultures are a protected species. If you kill one, be prepared. You're gonna pay.
On many occasions I have mused about the possibility of moving back into the Blue Ridge Mountains, to some bucolic McMansion-laden, Walmart-saturated bedroom suburb like Staunton, Virginia. But then I look around me at New Jersey ... sagging old New Jersey, with its refineries and its Snookies and its fat Republican governors, and I say, "Wait. This is Jersey. We treat vultures with respect."
Home sweet home.
Staunton, next time I go to the Skyline Drive, you won't even smell the exhaust from my car!
The residents of Staunton are being visited by a winter flock of vultures. Staunton's response to the visitation is to try to scare off -- or kill -- the buzzards.
And the reporter at the Washington Post who wrote about Staunton's big, ugly problem was too lazy to Google and try to find other towns with similar winter vulture roosts.
If the Washington Post reporter of record, Darryl Spears, had done his proper research, he would have discovered the enlightened borough of Wenonah, NJ, which inherited a winter vulture population and has since made a clear profit of $10,000 on an annual Vulture Festival.
Speaking of the ever-popular East Coast Vulture Festival, it will be held on the first Saturday in March, 2011. At this festival, the children of the region will learn the following Religious Truths:
*Just because someone's droppings stink, that doesn't make them bad.
*Vultures do not kill kittens, puppies, or anything that isn't already almost dead.
*Vulture roosts are a WINTER season event only. As in winter, when it's cold. In the spring, they disperse.
*Vultures do not kill pine trees.
*Vultures only throw up on people who try to shoot them with paintballs. (LOL, that was in the Washington Post story. Someone had it coming!)
*Vultures are a protected species. If you kill one, be prepared. You're gonna pay.
On many occasions I have mused about the possibility of moving back into the Blue Ridge Mountains, to some bucolic McMansion-laden, Walmart-saturated bedroom suburb like Staunton, Virginia. But then I look around me at New Jersey ... sagging old New Jersey, with its refineries and its Snookies and its fat Republican governors, and I say, "Wait. This is Jersey. We treat vultures with respect."
Home sweet home.
Staunton, next time I go to the Skyline Drive, you won't even smell the exhaust from my car!
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