Church Stories

The priest raised the chalice: "In the name of the Father, Son & the Holy Ghost." He drank the cup of wine.
"You want another one, Father?" asked the bartender.
"Not yet," said the Priest, "this Cub Scout's still blowing me and I'm just about to cum."


Two brothers were fussing in church, slapping and pushing each other.
"If you don't behave yourselves I'll have to separate you," said their Mother.
Just then God liquefied her because of frequent masturbation.


Two nuns were walking down the street when their car broke down.
"Let's ask for help at the house down the road," said the First Nun.
So they walked to the house and knocked on the door.
The man who lived there opened the door and pelted the nuns with full-size Snicker bars.
Did I mention this was Halloween night? Most likely.


A young boy was sitting in church and decided to steal the money from the collection plate to buy a pasta-maker.
When the Priest noticed the money missing, he decided to lecture the entire parish.
"The perils of sin are the fires of Hell, the discomfort of eternal damnation. God will punish the wicked; and all thieves meet the same fate!"


A number of family pets had been disappearing from the neighborhood, and only Deacon Joe Farley held the key to the mystery.
"It is starting again, Father..." he whispered, making the sign of the cross. "The blood lusts... the hungers..."
I'm pretty sure that's when they threw him out of the 7-11.


An Old Woman went to church every day for fifty years, and one day the Priest asked her to give a reading from the scriptures.
She stepped up to the podium and began to spew the loudest, angriest filth that Man has ever heard... the profanity rattled the pews and shook the stained-glass windows. Mothers jammed ball-point pens into their children's ears to drown out the foul curses.
After the service the Priest ran up to the woman, humiliated, and asked her for some possible explanation.

"I'm a Jew, you stupid cocksucker."


A newlywed couple thought it would be hilarious to have sex in the empty church.
"I'm going to bang you toddler-style," bragged the engorging groom.
"I'm going to ride you reverse-rhino," cried the oozing bride.
When they got to the church they were both raped by the Maniac.
I just remembered there was a Maniac on the loose.


A Priest kept having his sermons interrupted by a flock of tweeting birds that had nested outside the church.
After the mass was over he pulled out his ladder and set out for the top of the steeple, climbing towards the large brown nest resting in the eaves.

"HEY, FATHER PERRY!" called a loud voice from the ground.

The Priest turned, partially. "WHAT!"






The Priest steadied himself. "OH!"

The sky, which had been turning gray all morning, rumbled with the faint sound of thunder.


The ladder, rickety, buckled. The birds looked up, sensing the approaching Priest.

Father Perry turned his head over his shoulder.


"HOW DO YOU MEAN?" shouted Mr. Grudzielanek, hands cupped to his mouth like a megaphone, "IT'S ME! MR. GRUDZIELANEK!"

The thunder rumbled louder in the nearby-sky... the birds gathered into formation, practicing violent pecking motions... the bottom rung of the ladder suddenly snapped, and Father Perry had to squeeze his arms around the outer rails of the ladder to keep it from splitting.


An Altar Boy was hungry, and helped himself to several Communion wafers before mass.
When the Priest saw this he decided to teach the boy a lesson by playing a joke on him.
"The Lord punishes those who eat the body of Christ before mass."
Did the Altar Boy throw up on him or something?


A husband and wife were experiencing marital difficulties and went to see the Priest for advice.
"Tell me, Father," said the Wife, "does the Lord wish for a man to come home every evening and spend time with his family? Is that not God's way?"
"Hear my side, Father," the Husband said. "Doesn't God want the working man to relax after a day of labor, to raise a glass with his neighbors and drink to His creations?"
The priest laughed, "There is no God."


Two nuns were eating each other out when one of them suddenly realized, "Today is Easter Sunday!"
"That's okay," said the second nun, "we'll go to the afternoon mass."


A little girl was eating Cheerios during mass, and spilling them everywhere. There were Cheerios in the pews, Cheerios in the aisles, and Cheerios all over the floor. The minister noticed, and decided to make a lesson of her in front of his entire flock.
He gathered up all the Cheerios she had thrown, walked over to where she was sitting and snapped her neck, killing her instantly.


A woman was selling brownies at the church bake sale.
"How much for a brownie?" asked an old man not named Mimbles.
"Twenty-eight bucks, Mimbles," the woman said.
He bought two.


A teenage boy had a crush on one of the girls in his parish, and asked Father Mulcahey for help in asking her out.
"No problem," said the Priest, "she's coming to the church social on Saturday. Get here early and I'll partner the two of you up for the three-legged race."
The boy could hardly wait until Saturday! He showed up early at the Church and saw the girl he liked- but the Priest was nowhere to be found!
"Excuse me," the boy asked the girl, "but do you know where I might find Father Mulcahey?"
The girl smiled softly. "Father Mulcahey threw himself in front of a subway train early this morning. And I find you physically repulsive."


A group of children was playing baseball in the church parking lot.
One of the boys hit a towering home run, shattering the window of the church.
The Mets signed the pitcher to a ten-year deal.


A Minister was at a funeral, giving a eulogy for an Old Woman he had never met.
"Florence was a good woman, a warm woman... and a wonderful mother."
"Her name was Rosalyn," shouted one of the mourners, and the Minister continued, embarrassed.
"Rosalyn was a wonderful wife and mother-"
"She was never even married!" yelled another mourner in black.
The Minister, out of sheer frustration, threw his shoe at the corpse.
Rosalyn sat up and looked into the camera: "That's the most fun I ever had since 1996."


A black motherfucker went to church and sat in the very front row.
"Why are you sitting up so close?" asked one of the church-goers.
"So that God can see me better," said the black man.
When the organ played the motherfucker sang louder than anyone else.
"Why are you singing so loud?" asked one of the church-goers.
The black man smiled. "So that God can hear me better."

Just then God brought Judgement on the church: he destroyed every sinner, every liar, every crook... he melted the priest for being a sex offender and the wealthy couple for beating their children bloody... he crushed the drug-dealers and hypocrites and disintegrated the vengeful bastards. When the judgment was over only the black man was left standing in the church.

Who is the motherfucker now?

Toys In The Bathroom

Like you don't have 'em too...

Chewbacca - Chewy was a prominent character in the Star Trek films, and one bad-ass Wookie motherfucker in general. My memory is a little hazy on his role in the movie but I'm pretty sure he was a half-grizzly bear/ half-Australian fellow who shot everybody in the face with his righteous flame-thrower. This action figure is fun to hold onto during those long, boring showers, and I once mistook him for soap and rubbed him against my body for seventeen minutes trying to get a lather going. We had a good laugh about it afterwards. (Me and Chewbacca)

MASK Stinger - This was an action vehicle from the short lived cartoon/commercial series MASK, and it is a truly impressive creation. This toy car can travel at over 85 miles an hour, provided it's in the front seat of a real car travelling over 85 miles an hour. It transforms from a Pontiac GTO into some sort of armored tank for destroying the neighborhood and its many babysitters. I play with this while I'm shaving since it leaves me a free pinky to work the straight razor. Another close shave for the MASK stinger!

Spikor - This tough customer came from either the He-Man or Strawberry Shortcake line of toys, and he makes bathtime fun. He doesn't do anything but sometimes that's enough. I like to pretend he's awash in a sea of sudsy water and my own tepid filth, swimming for his life and searching for a reason to avoid the drain. It's a metaphor most likely.

Walther PPK - Just your standard blowback-operated semi-automatic pistol. I like to shoot birds/pedestrians while I'm urinating, so I stand at the bowl with my Unit in one hand and my gun in the other, firing at random out the window. This little bastard came with a double-action trigger and single column mag, and one time I used it to shatter the spine of a old man taking a walk with his two grandsons. The guy's in some sort of motorized cart now and he has machines that do his eating and complaining for him. Circle of life? Well-said, sassafras.

Play-Doh - For those long dumps where you find yourself on the verge of pondering the meaning of life, the only answer is to roll with the 'Doh. On the bowl I have my hands free to be truly creative, and I make all sorts of amazing shapes and objects- snakes, donuts, snake-eating donuts and sometimes donut-eating snakes. The bonus is that the 'Doh is non-toxic, so it makes a great snack while I Lamaze my way through another difficult movement.

Some people read in the bathroom. I play with toys. And not just because I'm illiterate.



He thinks I don’t know. He thinks I don’t understand. He thinks my eyes are too dull, but everyone else thinks they’re too bright. Too hot or too white… and so I’m stuck between a hard place and some kind of rock.

He doesn’t think I see the evil, and the lies, but I do- I always have- and it’s always made me sick. Always I will fight them with every fiber of my being. He knows now that I can’t be killed with conventional methods. I doubt that will stop him from trying.

So let’s get back to work, start smiling and enjoying the day, and just know that if I’m ever forced off the road again or killed in a car crash it wasn’t an accident.

There are no accidents.

Return To Stupidity



Cicada Song


Cicada bugs
And fill your ears
With alibis

Turn your head
To the side
Shake out the lies
Of exercise

You decide
Make it bright
Do it right

And summer nights
That won’t divide
No paradise
No afterlife

Roll away with him
Roll away with him
Roll away with him
Roll away with him


My Time With Jackie


The hitchhiker got in the back seat, pulling her red hair back, pushing the sacks of clothes to the opposite side, rubbing her hands, squeezing her thighs together and smiling.

 “I’d really love to give you head,” she said, laying her bag across the seat, filling the car with a natural perfume, “but I got this winter cold, you know.” She sniffled, heavy, and James heard it, and could feel the smile spread across his face. Right away he liked this tough cookie, right away he was glad that he had stopped.

“My name is Jackie,” she said, as the car pulled away from the curb, “have I seen you before?”

She had memory.

“Yeah,” James said, “you were a waitress, at the Hodgepodge...”

“Yes! I hated that place!”

They began to talk, and somewhere between Orange and Beaumont the highway happened... when the road takes you over, when you surrender to the ride. The interstate pulled them both along, and after two hundred miles Jackie knew James and James knew Jackie. They began to know each other the way lucky people do.

After a rest stop there was room cleared in the front seat and they were beside themselves, looking at each other like looking in a mirror. The conversation was music: high harmony in the vocals, echo in the laughter. By the time they hit Houston words were no longer necessary. Somebody turned on the radio.

They could hear steel drums between the tolls, trying not to jinx it, trying not to think too far ahead. James put his hand out to hold Jackie’s and she didn’t even notice- it had been there all her life, or maybe just been missing. The piano was humming, the guitar was strumming when they looked at one another, sharing a secret, trying in vain to stop smiling. The car was driving itself, drove them both smooth over endless highway mile. The jazz-rock solo spiraled sweet through the speakers...

A drunk driver going the wrong way plowed into their car, killing them both instantly.

September Sunday

This is where it's at. I made it. I planned it. Forget the bagels, I’ll take toast if I don’t have to leave the house. I just brushed my teeth, and I even stained my shirt with paste for old time’s sake, and now I take to the couch for the ride of my life.

Sunday in front of the TV. Watch me land in s l o w - m o t i o n . . .

I'm not apologizing for any of it. This is what I need right now. No work, no family, no more conversations about why we don’t have more conversations, just… Sunday junk, which is perfectly useless, but hardly the end of the world. She is giving me the gift today… she’s made herself invisible. Baby I owe you one, or several, but we’ll crunch those numbers at a later date. Right now I am incommunicado. Let me live this day on Sofa Island, TV County, in the great state of Sports and Entertainment, in the lost sea of the living room, as baseball settles down and football fires up.


I have a glass of water, a personal oasis, and there’s ice in the glass, just hanging there, doing what ice does in a quiet kind of way. I'm charging through the channels, getting garbage, garbage, garbage. It’s good to have something you can count on. The sun is shining through the curtains but I forgot to have a kid and I’m not about to start a family at 11:30 AM.

Old movie, old movie, old movie… Sunday morning television is a punishment for not going to church. Remember God? Whoa! That is one busty weatherwoman… she’s gonna need surgery or have back problems for life. Stretching out my muscles, my shoulders and ankles and calves… so happy I put socks on when I got out of bed this morning because they feel so good on my feet and I would never have the energy for such an enormous effort if they were bare now.

Meet The Press? We’ve met… and we disagree frequently. Ah, pre-game. Are there any sweeter words? They’re warming up and I’m drifting off. Yeah, that’s the stuff. Sleep. Sleeping through a ballgame is the ultimate expression of freedom. This is still America, yes? Besides I got up kind of early for a Sunday anyway… I mean, where the hell am I going?

You couldn't even get me to roll over right now. It’s just not gonna happen. I can smell her burning the bagels but I do not even care. Not going to open my mouth today, not gonna say a single thing.

I’m taking a sip of my water. Oh man! The ice seems to last longer these days and it’s so cold, so fresh- this might be the best water in the world. The freshest. Wettest. Coldest. Even the sun outside is accommodating… he’s on a dimmer switch like he doesn’t want to blind me with his brightness. Such cooperation…

Listen to these bozos talk just like they know… coming back from an injury isn't easy! Maybe I won’t ever get off this couch… it's a definite possibility. I’m starting to realize my grandfather might have had the right idea. I have multiple games to watch, and some personal stuff to work out during commercials. So I’ll call in sick on Monday. I don’t care. Let them fire me. What is this…? A music infomercial? Are people still buying CD’s...? I love that song! I’m gonna buy this set if I can remember the number... The game is starting... Are you ready for this? I’m laying my head down... I’m closing my eyes... couch pillow under my thoughtless head. Fantasy numbers can wait until Monday... I’m taking a nap now...

I’m gonna waste this day perfectly... I'm not even going to