Dreaming doesn’t count when it’s about something stupid. The Buddha (a.k.a. little fuck bastard) dreams of chewing my CAT-5 cable. And then he fucking does it, severing me from the internet.
Now that it’s Easter and everyone is over here folding paper cranes… I forgot what I was going to say. These assholes have been here since last night and don’t seem to want to stop, folding cranes. It is as if their souls are gone and all that is left is the paper. They may be afraid to leave because the old-fuck-bastard-neighbor has perfected the art of saying “hey” in a sexually suggestive way.
I folded thirteen and that seemed like it was enough to me. But not the others; oh no: They-Must-Fold. I figure that by the time we have about 1001 cranes I’ll put a stop to it.
I’ve got the lord handing out water –or– wine, and the Buddha has convinced them that they don’t have to eat. The lord is acting like people should know what day it is but we’ve all decided to ignore him.
God: “Why thirteen?”
Saint Garion: “The Thirteenth Is Important.”
God: “OK whatever man.”
The Lord: “But it’s the fertility festival! It’s time for colored eggs, bunnies, pre-marital sex that results in pregnancy and Goat Cheese!”
Saint Garion’s head turned toward the Lord before all of the words coming out of the Lord fully registered, “Goat Cheese?”
The Lord: “No goat cheese?”