Tag: religion

Spooky Golf Course

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You’d think that a golf course built on a graveyard would be creepy, but once you get beyond the shock of spectral caddies and zombie groundskeepers it’s actually pretty nice. And a challenge to boot.
I have yet to lose a single ball there. No matter where I whack it, my caddy finds it. Isn’t that great?
You’ve got to be careful with summoning a caddy though. Light the candles in the wrong order or pause at the wrong moment during the spell, and you might end up summoning Satan.
He’s a lousy caddy. Chews club heads, keeps score wrong…

Stairway To Heaven

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Lisa walked up the staircase for weeks until she reached Heaven.
She knocked twice on the door, waited for a moment, and then knocked three more times.
The door creaked open and a bearded man poked his head out.
“What is it?” asked the old man.
“Why?” asked Lisa.
The old man scratched his beard and thought for a moment.
“There was a lot left over from my first project, so I decided to build something with the scraps,” he said, and then he leaned back and closed the door.
Lisa sat on the staircase for a while and pondered.

The Easter Egg Hunt

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We spent all of yesterday painting eggs. The kids love the bright colors and the sparkles. Their wide-open eyes dazzle in delight.
After they went to bed, I hid the eggs throughout the house. That’s right. When they wake up, we’re going to have ourselves an old-fashioned Easter egg hunt.
But sometimes, they whine about this kind of thing. Kids can be lazy these days, you know. Damn X-Box Generation.
So if they give up, I’ll just tell them that we didn’t paint chicken eggs. We painted rattlesnake and alligator eggs. And if they don’t find them all, they’ll hatch.

The Dali Code

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I know you’ve heard of the DaVinci Code, but have you heard of the Dali Code?
Just as the true nature of Christ is in a vault only reachable by following clues laid out by Leonardo DaVinci’s work, Salvador Dali’s work is a map to the Missing Fifteenth Station of the Cross.
Dali? Devout?
Of course he was. Why else would he paint Crucifixion?
Okay, so here’s the secret: Between having his clothes stripped off and getting nailed to the cross, Jesus was slapped with a fish in a bowler hat.
Okay, so he was a weird kind of devout.

Heaven 101

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The first few months in Heaven are anything but. It’s an Eternity when you’re in Halo Manners 101, learning the proper brightness, angle, circumference, and elevation of your halo.
Then there’s Flying School. You might think you’ve been flying forever, but they still need to teach you the Rules Of The Sky.
Unless you played a Lyre during your mortal days, not only do you get to learn fingering and strumming technique for a year, but also have to master tuning the darn thing.
Here in Hell, once you have your horns and pitchfork, you’re on your own.
Happy hunting!

Not Dice

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Einstein said that God does not play dice with the universe, and I believe he’s right.
So for the past thirty years, I’ve been trying to determine exactly what game God does play with the universe.
Bouncing quarters in the Holy Grail?
Perhaps.
It wasn’t easy getting the research grants, but when the government doubted and withdrew support, private sources of funding kept the faith.
After all, what casino wouldn’t want to claim to have exclusive rights to the Divine Game. If they’re willing to build volcanoes, replicate cities, and buy holy grilled cheese sandwiches, why not this as well?

Angels on the radar

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By adjusting the sensitivity, power, angle, and reflectivity of a weather radar, you can detect some interesting things out in the heavens.
If you’re really good, you might even find signs of heaven itself.
Now, I won’t tell you the exact settings you need, but imagine the shock when I twiddled a few dials and came up with a squadron of angels sweeping over the land.
Or maybe they were ghosts. I’m not sure. I’ve still got a lot of research to do.
What Nobel Prize category should this be under? Do you think I have a shot at winning?

The Martyrdom of Saint Timothy

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Everybody agreed that the pizza should have pepperoni and sausage.
Except for Timothy. He insisted on mushrooms.
“How about mushrooms on half?” he asked.
“There’s five of us,” said Joe. “You getting half your way? No way.”
“Why don’t you just get a small mushroom pizza on your own?” asked Susan.
“No,” said Timothy. “I want mushrooms on half.”
That was the last straw.
Susan and Joe pinned Timothy’s arms to the table while Irwin poured hot lead into Timothy’s mouth.
Word of Timothy’s martyrdom spread throughout campus. He eventually became the Patron Saint Of Mushrooms.
Still, what a dumbass.

Shamrock

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Just as Valentine’s Day has become one gigantic commercial for flower merchants, candy makers, and greeting card printers, I fear that St. Patrick’s Day has become nothing more than a Guinness commercial.
Whatever happened to St. Patrick’s miracle of driving all of the snakes off of the island of Ireland?
To commemorate the true miracle of St. Patrick, we’ve farm-raised several thousand snakes and we will release them in Ireland on March 16th. Then the next day, the Irish can drive these snakes out.
Maybe when we get a corporate sponsor, we can afford to stockpile a supply of antivenin.

Jonah

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Looking back, I guess it’s a bit disappointing that man never invented a faster than light star drive.
The Jonah, on the other hand, was just sitting there on Io, waiting for God knows how long.
It took a few years, but we eventually figured out how to use it. Even managed to make functional copies of it.
But we still haven’t figured out how it works or why it works. We just make it work.
That’s good enough for me, I think as I step into the space-whale’s mouth.
Take me to the Heavens. I’m late for a meeting.