Sunday, November 12, 2006

Keeping the faith (a story with pictures)

It's Saturday afternoon, the sun is shining, the birds are making those slightly irritating cheeping sounds, you've run all your errands and have no plans for the rest of the day. The sensible thing to do? Smoke a joint, of course.

I don't usually advocate drug use, but just listen to this story. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of the munchies, yes? Goodo.

So the Pom and I had had a special smoke, descended into a pleasant state of relaxedness, smiling inanely at the good in the world and generally pleased with ourselves for no particular reason.

I decide to have a little lie-down, as I am wont to do without any specific excuse. I go into the bedroom, lay down and stare at the ceiling, and suddenly the munchies attack. Viciously. I make a mental inventory of what we have by way of stores, and conclude that aside from actually getting up to cook something, we have nowt. And especially nothing sweet, which is what I tend to crave. Sweet, sweet, sweet. Chocolate, lollies, cake. Anything.

"God, please let Pom offer to go to the supermarket to get chocolate. Please please please" I think to myself. I want sweet, and I want it now.

So this is where it gets weird. I am laying on the bed, praying for something to happen so that I can get a sugar rush. Anything. And the doorbell rings.

I get up and answer it, and there's this young man standing on my doorstep.

"Hi, we're doing some fundraising for my church youth-group, just wondering if you'd like to help out?"

I stare at him, thinking that I probably have no need for Jesus fridge magnets.

"We're selling boxes of Krispy Kremes"

I nearly fell over. Once recovered, I promptly purchased a box, much to the young man's delight.






Oh Lordy, Krispy Kremes. How wonderful are they? There's not a Krispy Kreme outlet for 200kms, so this surely must be divine intervention.





They went down a treat. Not all of them, due to logisitcal diffculties with the size of my belly, but we had a bloody good crack at it.









Yum!


To summarise, and my take on this turn of events;

God (who is not usually one of my homies) saw that I was bent, He listened to my plea for sugar, and personally delivered a box of donuts to my door. The message could not be any clearer. He is cool with the scoobie.



Comments:
God is at one with the scoobie, he invented it, he smokes it and he condones it completely...... so roll another joint.....
 
I have just realised that the photos make it seem like I have a gigantic, mutated thumb. Which is, of course, true. Only I prefer to keep that to myself.
 
OMFG JESUS CONVERTED YOU WITH DONUTS.
 
The good lord giveth (enormous thumbs) and he taketh away (dainty waists).

Mmmmmmm. Donuts. Drooooool.
 
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