Today's Sermon: The Spam Is In The Mail
This week when I opened the Guest Sermon email box I found 6
mortgage applications and about 10 offers to enhance my "
male member".. and not just in length but girth! As I deleted them I wondered how many people might actually take out a second mortgage for such enhancements. After all in an abstract sorta way it could be considered a home improvement.
There were other come-ons and offers too. One told me that I pay too much for
gas. Another offered to help me
lose weight. And a couple were in some bizarre capitalized font or foreign alphabet that made no sense at all.
But there were no sermons. Dammit!
Or were there?
Perhaps this was some kinda challenge of faith. Sorta like
Father Guido Sarducci's infamous Find The Pope In The Pizza challenge of some years ago!
So I pulled them all outa the trash.. all 40 of em. Well there's a good start I thought. 40's always seemed like a
biblical number. It rained for 40 days & 40 nights. The Israelites wandered the desert for 40 years. Mosses was on the mount for 40 days. And of course my personal favorite.. Ali Baba & the 40 thieves.
But what enlightenment can there be in 40 pieces of spam??
Well.. let's take a look-see.
I pay to much for gas. But we won the war in Iraq. We've freed the oil. Gas in America is probably cheaper than just about anywhere else on earth. I mean.. sure it's not 60 cents a gallon like it was when I was in high school. But then neither are cigarettes. Everything is more expensive but it's a relative thing. So how can we be paying too much? Of course the war did cost a kajillion dollars. And oh yeah… alota lives too.
Alota lives! But do they add those into the grand total? And what's the
conversion rate? Hmmmm.. maybe we are paying to much for gas after all.
Help me lose weight. Well all Americans (except movie stars and models) are heavy. And not just with flab but with guilt and despair too. We wanna be
skinny.. And we gotta be
beautiful. OK.. So what
combination of pills do I take for that? And what will become of my enhanced "male member" if I do? And ya know.. this mortgage loan request is exactly the same as the horoscope profile I just filled out. And this foreign alphabet thingy just opened
40 windows of
porn!
And ya know.. it just dawned on me..
There really was no pope in that pizza.
and the earth is made outa spam.
So go on. Get outa here. I think there's a football game on!
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No sermon this week!!
Say hallelujah!!!
We're havin our First Annual Third Church
Picnic.
Please
join us.. and
eat,
drink & be
merry!!
For
autumn falls next week!!!
Now if you feel you
must be
preached to then please pay a visit to the sermon archives (bottom of page) and then please come join us.
Last one
in is a rotten egg!!!
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Today's sermon: A Sermon About Nothing
Midnight. And all’s quiet in Blogville. I’m all alone this evening. Can’t sleep. And there’s nothing much to do. So I’ve just been pointing & clicking aimlessly. Going
here and then
there.. and somehow ending up here.. At the Third Church. Believe me I wouldn’t have stopped here if I’d known it was a church. But I wasn’t paying attention. I just saw the mimosa pancake breakfast ad and the quote by Kate Hepburn and thought I’d just snoop around a bit!!
Hmmm.. so.. ok.. apparently I’m here all alone. I mean most peeps are either out having a good time or
asleep and dreaming.. And the mimosa breakfast is still hours and hours away!
So why the hell am I still here?
And then I see it. A hand scribbled note taped to a shoe box. It read: “our server is down. We’ve lost this weeks sermon. If you can read this then you have been chosen. Preach to us. Leave your sermon in this box. And bless you! – Sister Jomama”
Me? Chosen? By whom?
God? Impossible.. we had a falling out years ago. Around the time I realized there was no Santa or
Tooth Fairy. When I realized that grownups were playing me for a chump. Yep..I was pretty young when I lost faith.. when I pretty much stopped believing in anything that I couldn’t see or touch.
So what kinda crazy entity or deity would choose me to proselytize?
Could it be something
evil?. Could it be that something wicked this way comes?
*looks around* Nope.. I’m still the only one here. Surely I haven’t been chosen to promote evil wickedness. I mean I’m not a politician or a death metal musician (besides.. I don’t think any musical genre is really evil. Though
Yanni &
John Tesh come awfully close!)
And so here I am at the summation of my sermon and I still don’t have a topic. Nor do I know why I was given this task or by whom.
Perhaps the calling wasn’t from a spiritual deity but a modern-day
icon?
And perhaps a sermon
about nothing at all actually says it all ?
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Today's Sermon: Saints & Surfers
Introduction by: Sister Mary Jomama
Today's sermon is less a sermon and more a plea. Today we have a man on a mission. But before I introduce him let me give you some back round info. In 1969 the Catholic Church, the most infallible Catholic Church, decided to "de-register" some of it's saints because they were behind on their union dues or something. One of these saints was
St.Christopher. Patron saint of travelers in general. And specifically to surfers around the world.
I think that's all you need for starters. Sooo.- here's Mud in your eye!
Hola dudes. My name is Mud and I will be hanging 10 off the pulpit here this morning. And it is a great morning. The sun is out and the surf is up... Hey! Why the hell am I here? Oh yeah.. I wanna start a movement. And I couldn't think of a better place.. no.. actually I couldn't think of anyplace. And that's why I am here. Ummm.. to ask you to help me re-instate St. Christopher. St Christopher is errrr..
was the patron saint of surfers. I think it's pretty obvious that I'm a
surfer. But then all you here call yourselves surfers too. Right!?! Well dammit us surfers gotta stick together. I mean- broken neck from a board
slamming down on your head or carpal tunnel from pointing & clicking- both activities have risks. We need our
patron saint!! We demand our patron saint!! So here's the movement. I want everyone here to drop His Holiness the Pope a card or letter (he don't have a public email address) containing the chant REINSTATE OUR PATRON SAINT: ST. CHRISTOPHER. That oughta blow what's left of the old dude's mind. Oh yeah.. here's his holy address:
His Holiness John Paul II
Apostolic Palace 00120 Vatican City State,
EUROPE
Note: Do not write Italy any where on the envelope.
O-kay then.. so go on. You're free to go. To go out there and write those letters. Yeah!
Yo.. Sister! Come on! Surf's up! You ready to shoot some curl with the Muddster? And maybe you got a couple a dollars for gas?
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