GhostWriter

Hello.  I am going to step out of character for a moment to share with you.  I've been writing 'A Day in the Life of Jesus' for a little over a year.  If you only knew how much I enjoy writing from the perspective of "WWIDIIWJ" or What would I do if I were Jesus?

I don't know if anyone else thinks what I do is funny besides me.  If not, I have the satisfaction of knowing I entertain myself and laugh a lot.  I'm sure there are some people who find my project offensive.    Do people get angry or uncomfortable?  I hope so because if I am able to illicit a response wittin you, that's even more satisfying to me than making myself laugh.

My writing project serves as a creative outlet.  The whole God thing is completely misunderstood in the world.  Why take it so seriously?  There is a reason they call it the greatest story ever told.  The same reason Ringling Brothers call their circus the greatest show on Earth.

That being said...  Do you know what I'd like to watch?  Someone's facial expressions as they read www.adayinthelifeofjesus.com for the first time when they searched for something relevant to their ministry or faith walk.  I bet it's absolutely priceless...  It'd probably make America's Funniest Home Video look lame.  Oh wait...  America's Funniest Home Videos is lame.

Love -

The Booming Voice of Jesus.

Charlie Sheen, me, Jewish People. Pt II

Sorry about not getting back to you yesterday.  I got distracted with my own peyote and I was seriously mellowed out.  My apologies.

The Jewish think they are my chosen people.  The mormons.  Club Catlick.  The list list goes on.  There's even one group of people who made a movie called "Jesus in India," trying to say it can be proved my youth was spent there.  You know - that period between 13 and 30...  I was not in India.  Whatever proof people think they have substantiating their claim has been completely fabricated.  They couldn't be further from the truth.  Exactly where does the truth lie?

My story has been changed through the ages it seems to suit whomever wants power wherever they want power.  How else can you explain the King James translation to my self help guide to successful living?  All wrong again.

I'm about to drop the bomb...  Are you ready?  I'm hispanic.  They are my chosen people.  Now what do you think?  Everything changes, doesn't it.  How do I know I'm hispanic?

For starters, Jesus is not originally pronounced Geezus.  It's pronounced HeySuess.  My Father's name was not Joseph.  His name was Jose'.  He had a brother named JoseB (pronounced HoseB.  They were twins.  They worked together in the same woodshop - the three of us made some killer tables, chairs, cabinets, boxes and the like.  We were way ahead of our time.  Those were some good times.  Good times.

Less I digress..  My mother's name was indeed Mary.  Don't you find it odd my Mom and my lady friend have the same name?  I think Freud referred to this as an Oedipus Complex - another devotion for a different day.

We were always big on family.  Why do you think family gatherings on Sunday are a big part of my club? It's a time for family.  A time to rest after a difficult work week and before the new work week begins.  A time of praising me and worshiping me.  A time of fellowship and study.  We break bread and eat together.  Get plastered just to get through another week.

Anyways...  You see, Cortez was looking for the fountain of youth.  Newsflash - I found it and I hid it.  Now we know why I am timeless.  I am the same yesterday as I am today and will be tomorrow.  The alpha and the omega. You could also say I am the alpha and the amiga - I always liked the ladies.

So the Mexicans are my chosen people.  In case you haven't noticed, they are completely taken advantage of by modern society.  They build things, clean things and serve food.  All for a substandard wage because the white man thinks they are above such humble work.  Have you noticed how my people are happy?  Have you noticed the pride they show in their work?  Do you realize nothing would get done without Mexicans?

Do you see how my people are mistreated to this day - just as I was mistreated?  Times haven't changed for my people, but they have for me.  It's good to be king.

Next time I will share with you what I was doing in my 20's.

Adios Amigos - Jesus

Charlie Sheen, me and Jewish People.

Okay Okay...  I am not able to resist the temptation to set the record straight.  First, this will be a two part series to address the misinformation out there and the sensitivities corrupting the mortals.  All this politically correct mumbo jumbo is a drag.  How many things needing to be said are left unsaid for fear of getting someone's undergarments in a wad?  Offend no one while everyone gets ripped off because no one can be blatantly honest.   Pansies.  Do you think I intended for mortals to be wimps?  I created you in my image to stand up for yourselves.  Someone hits you?  Turn the other cheek.  Hit them back.  Apparently the last part has been written out of my help yourself guide to successful living as it has been passed down through the ages.  Less I digress...

Lost soul Sheen caused quite a tizzy being disrespectful to his current employer.  Fine.  He has free speech.  Along with running one's mouth comes taking responsibility for what comes out of that same mouth.   If he wants to call his boss a turd - more power to him.  I don't see why he should be surprised if he gets fired.  The story goes on when brother sheen called Chuck Lorre a mangled version (Chaim Levine) of his real name which is Charles Michael Levine.  Obviously, Mr. Lorre is ashamed of his heritage to hide his real name and go by the alias of Chuck Lorre.  If Mr. Levine was so proud of who he is, he would stand tall and proudly embrace his identity and heritage.  Mr. Levine is a despicable sap hiding like a scared little boy.  What gets me is these two clowns were at one time best buds.  Look how happy they are in the photo I found in Charlie's scrap book....

Now, the Anti-Defamation League caught wind of this and the whole thing is getting all blown out of proportion - the same way it did for brother Gibson.  The media is going to have a heyday turning this into an anti-semetic tirade.  And we have another turd buried by the fat cats in the media sand box which they play.  Seriously?

Are Jews still hanging on to the Hitler holocaust thing?  That is so yesterday.  Get over yourselves.  They call themselves my chosen people.  I find it real convenient how they avoid the funk of the old testament and only embrace the promise of the new testament.  See - they have a distorted reality of how this entire believer thing works.  They call themselves club members?  Oy.

I have a newsflash for the Jews.  They ARE NOT my chosen people.  Never have been.  Never will be.  All my children are chosen - however I refuse to tolerate one group of kids bastardizing and bullying the rest of my kids for their own gain.  Just for that, NO HEAVEN FOR YOU.  Get out.

I think the Jews need to get ahold of their dreidels and unwind a little.  Just because you were wronged back in the day doesn't mean the entire world is still trying to get you.  I should know.  People laughed at me, refuse to believe in me, throw things at me, beat me down, make me carry a tree through town and nail me to it.  Man, writing this down makes me realize how hard some of the chapters in my life have been....

Less I digress...

Do you see me hanging on to the hate?  Do you see me hiding from who I am?   NO.  You do not.  I stand tall.  I am lion.  Hear me ROAR!

So, what's going to come in part two of today's devotional?

I am going to tell you more about me, how I grew up and who my chosen people are and why.

Tune in later.  In the meantime, grab yourself a salami, some unleavened bread and some wine.  Eat.  Drink.  Be Mary.  No, don't be Mary - it'll only confuse me.  I meant to say Be Merry.  Get tipsy.  Get plastered.  What's coming next will blow your mind.  Go get the peyote out of the medicine chest and have it ready for later.

Cheers - HeySuess.

Lindsay Lohan's at it again... Forgive Her? Forgive Her Not?

Drones - How you doin' tonight?  I'm doing really good.  Just lit and hit the bong.  I am good...  All the time...   All the time....   I am good.  I hope you get the reference.  Less I digress....

Some of you may remember my last devotion for Dearest Lindsay Lohan.  This week she got accused of stealing some fancy necklace.  If she was in Les Miserables, the friar would have given her earrings to to boot....  Anyways....  She started reaching out to me while she was in rehab.  I reached back, but she kept giving me the cold shoulder.  I don't think she could handle someone as awesome as me.  Less I digress.

Word on the streets is Lindsay is getting advice from, none other than, Charlie Sheen.  Seriously Lindsay?  Charlie Sheen?  Wow.  I don't even know what to say...

Azazelle has gone AWOL.  I believe Azazelle has been reincarnated  as Charlie Sheen.  Lindsay is getting advice from the bad girl's bad guy...  Ugh.  I can see it now...  Lindsay asks Charlie what to do...  Charlie gives her that weird deer in the headlight look contemplating his answer.  I'm bracing myself for his answer.  Charlie responds, "So Lindsay, when you're lighting the pipe try and hold your lighter thusly. That way you won't burn your wrist as often."  Jesus.  Is at all this clown can muster?  

So what we have here is the blind leading the blind.  Can you see it?  They both got their white canes playing in traffic.  I see it.  I see Lindsay hanging on Charlie's arm while he fumbles from the curb into oncoming traffic.  She got her white cane under her arm.  The next thing you know, people are honking at them...  Charlie starts swinging his arms like an orangutan having a seizure and begins cursing like some guy with turrets .  Lindsay begins shrieking like a girl yelling all kinds of vulgarities at Charlie.    Horns are honking.  Birds are flying.  Both of them making a spectacle of themselves....


On one hand, they are perfect for each other.  It's like they've been living a parallel existence and one of their lines magically collided with the other and here we have a couple made in hell.


Oh Lindsay...  I don't know what to do now....  Obviously Betty Ford didn't bring us together..  If she can't do it, no one can.  The good thing is Mary won't be all jealous.  She tends to be kind of possessive sometimes... But, I forgive her and I find this little quirk endearing.  


So....  As I sit here and reflect on the entire situation staring into a fresh picked daisy I've been holding.  I pull off one petal and say, "Forgive her?"  Pull another petal and say "Forgive her not?" And we repeat the process until I get to the last petal.  "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?""Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" "Forgive Her?"  Forgive Her Not?" 


And....  I'm out of petals... Oh well.  There you have it.


Love - The Alpha and the Omega.

PuOva... PuOva

Man...  So I'm blastin' down the road in the GodRod.  I'm talking flyin'.  It is awesome.  The GodRod was singin' and I wazza zingin'.  See - I was feeling so good after my time with Mary.  We shared a very intimate couple days as we celebrated our love for eachother and made a little boom-boom.  Less I digress...

Back to the story.  It's beautiful day.  The sun is shining.  There's a light breeze from the North.  Traffic is just heavy enough to keep the drive entertaining.  The windows are down.  The sunroof open.  I'm playing the mix-tape Mary made me.  Rockin' Down the Highway is blasting right now.  The car is white.  I'm in black.  The Oakleys are on.  It is great.  Everything is perfectly synched.  The sound of the engine.  The feel of the shifter in my hand as the vibrations from the car travel through my body.  I'm rowing the gears, keeping the engine in the sweet zone.  Dancing through the traffic.   My hair is blowin' in the wind.  I feel great!

I look down at the speed-o and I'm doing 85mph.  I'm feeling GREAT!  "Raise a little Hell" is now playing on the mixtape.  I drummin' on the steering wheel.  (Mary knows me sooo well, it's scary.)  I think to myself, that's all you got?  Sure enough, traffic opens up a bit.  I drop a gear and hit it.  90...  95....  100....  SWEET!  The car is pulling long and strong as the speed increases....  110.  120. 125.  All of a sudden, there's a Kojack with a Kodak parked in the shoulder. He got me.  Damit.  So, I start slowing down and pull over to the right shoulder.  (Last time I pulled into the left should and the cop was upset.)  whatever.

He slowly gets off his bike with his weapon drawn.  I'm like what's going on.  This is a little different than last time.  He yells at me, "Son, What's your name?"  In the meantime, I'm thinkin, who you callin' son?  And he yells again in a very agitated and agressive voice, "What's YOUR NAME SON?"  I yell back, "JESUS CHRIST."  He yells put your hands up.  Good me.  What is going on?  I put my hands up - one is up and sticking out of the sunroof.  The other hand is raised out the window.  This is awkward.

He approaches the car with his gun pointed at me and says, "Gimme your license and insurance."  I'm like, excuse me, sir....  Do you have your cam on?  He says What?  I go DO YOU HAVE YOUR CAM ON?  He's like whats a cam.  I'm like dude, you know your camera so this entire incident is captured on video.  It's for my protection as well as yours.  He looks at me with a WTF look.  I ask him to please turn it on.

He begrudgingly complies.  As requested, I get out my license and insurance, holding it out the window clenched between my pointer and middle finger.  He snaps it out of my hand.  This guy has a huge attitude problem.  He looks at my license and says, "Jesus H. Christ?"  Yeah, that's my name.  What does the H stand for?  Nothing.  It's just an initial.  From New Hope, Pennsylvania  huh?  Yep, that's right again.  You musta been in the talented and gifted program, huh?  Whatever.  Then he asks me where I'm going.  Heaven.  Where's Heaven?  I told him the only way he can find out is if he enrolls in my timeshare program.  He raises an eyebrow.  And says, "son, where is Heaven?"  I hate it when the mortals expect an answer to this question.  I said if I tell you, I'd have to kill you.  Wrong thing to say to the cop....  I look at him and say, "dude, let's get this over with.  Are you gonna give me a ticket, put me in jail or what?

So, here I am finding myself in an awkward position.  I ask him for forgiveness.  I've got a meeting with the Jesus! Inc. bored members.  I'm like if you forgive me, I'll forgive you... I'm saying this with a little devilish grin on my face.  I say seriously.  He looks the GodRod over.  Looks at my license.  Reads the license plate allowed "4 GIVN"  Looks at me.  Looks up at the sky.  Let's out a loud sigh.  Looks back at me and says beat it.  He hands me my license.  I say Bless you my child.

Start up the car again, crank the stereo and Cee Lo Greens F*%CK YOU song starts blasting.

I lowered my head.  I raise my eyes just over the shades...  Give him a cheesy grin with a few little eyebrow raises.  Rev the engine.  Pop the clutch.  Lay some rubber.  I'm gone.

Hahahahaha!

Sucker.

It's good to be god.

Love, Jesus.

J.E.S.U.S.A.

Buy American!

Happy Valentine's Day

Why Hello Chilren?  Word Up.  Today is Valentine's Day.  That special day to celebrate the person of your affection.  Your significant life partner.  Someone you love, etc.  

I did some independent research...  I discovered only 40% of you actually enjoy today.  You fall into two categories...  the married and the dating folk.

The other 60% of you hate today.  Either you got dumped, you're single and you wanna be married.  Or, you're married and want to be single.  Either way, a 60% dissatisfaction rate is...  disturbing to say the least...

I can't help it if the mortals have been trying to force relationships with others that simply were not meant to be.  A lot of people are flat out not-compatible with one another.  As I think about it, there has to be a shared ideology on how the world works and what's important.  For some it is a common employer.  For others it is, dare I say religion.  Everyone knows my disdain for club catlick.  They confuse things originally meant to be so simple.  I don't get it....

Less I digress....  So, there has to be some sort of shared vision for the world.  A democrat and a republican don't match.  Nor does an Aggie and a Longhorn.  The biggest mismatch would be a baptist to a non-baptist or a mormon to a non-mormon, etc.  You get the idea...

Anyway, it takes a special chemistry and commitment to make a relationship work.  No one is perfect.  Not even me.  I'm pretty close, but every so often, I goof.  Less I digress...

Obviously, I love all my children.  Nearly 7 billion of you.  I love you for who you are, who I made you to be and who you will become as you spend time on project Earth.  

Even though I think you're all perfect, I think there is a good chance you see one another, to a greater or lesser degree, as flawed.  That's not cool....  Everyone tries their best with what they've got. 

So...  Here's my challenge.  In order to love another, see them as I intended them to be seen.  Blow your mind and look at your fellow mortals through my eyes.  You'll be amazed at what you see in your fellow mortals.

That concludes today's devotion.

Now that I got that over with, Mary and I are going to celebrate with a conjugal visit.  

Don't me knockin' when the van's a-rockin.

Love, J-Dawg.

The sin Nazi says "No I/T confession for you. Now, get out."

Ah yes...  Someone tries to one-up the catlick priests...  And again, club catlick come out with a silly statement from the Phatican.  An Indian software/app entepreneur came up with an app for the iTards simply called "Confession:  A Roman Catlick App" and is 'designed to be used in the concession confessional, this app is the perfect aid for every penitent."  The app is complete with password protection, a step-by-step guide to the excra sacrament and invites catlicks to prayerfully prepare for rite of penance.

Ok, whatever....

Then the phatican comes out saying one can not confess via an I/T application.  Like club catlick knows anything about I/T?  Here is the perfect opportunity for them to access the wonder and majesty of the 21st century....  And, as usual they're being a stick in the mud.

Club catlick goes on to say technology "is not a substitute for being present when admitting sins to a priest. "

I'm calling their bluff.  I think they, once again, forget the fact that I am the way the truth and the light.  I forgive people of their sins.  They have NO right to know what you've done, how you did it and to whom you've done it to...  It's like they are trying to get power over you because they know one of your deep dark secrets; giving them the ability to dangle your actions over your head to gain power over you.  Just the simple act of telling someone something and then being told do go do something in exchange of forgiveness automatically puts them in a power position.  Do you not realize they just made an economic model out of your behavior and you just made a transaction for the deeds you've done?  What's worse?  You mortals are paying the catlicks for taking out your own garbage by saying the rosary and participating in this dog and pony show known as confession.   

To Me, that seems wrong.  In a way, twisted....  Never mind; afterall, we are talking about club catlick.

Another funny I read, "the launch of an iPhone application aimed at helping Catholics through confession sanctioned by the Catholic Church in the United States."  So, what they're saying is the catlick church is a sanctioning organization as the NFL is to football?  What?  This doesn't even make sense to me.

Less I digress...

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret....  You don't need a catlick priest, a sanctioned confession, a booth or a priest to be forgiven of your sins.  It's my gift to you for accepting me as your lord and savior.  Again, the best way for us to work together is to have a direct relationship.  You with me and me with you.  It's beautiful.  It's yin and yang.  It's give and take.  It's awesome.  See, the best thing is, your secret is safe with me.  I will never use it against.  I will never, ever, ever ask you to do something to be forgiven of your sins.  I accept you as you are even before you accept me as I am.  See, I already made the first move in our relationship.  I accept you.  As you are.  Unconditionally.

Do you want me to change for you?  News flash...  If you do, go look for someone else to give worship and praise.  I am timeless.  I am the alpha and the omega.  The one who was, is, and yet to come.   Well, I'm already here...  Anyway, that's a story for another day.

Until then, don't bother paying dues to the catlick sanctioning organization.  The way I see it, if you're in club catlick, you are paying their sanctioning organization to have a relationship me.  Get rid of the middle man.  Do business directly with the source.  It's cheaper to do business directly with me.  It feels better and our relationship will be stronger.  Think of our relationship as a bungee cord instead of a rubber band.  Why?  Because a rubberband is small and it breaks when under stress.  A bungee cord - man - those have amazing elasticity and they stand the stress of time.  I love bungee cord jumping, too.  It really gets the adrenaline pumping.

Less I digress...

The only thing I see the catlicks learning from their sanctioning of confession is the mortals actually feel remorse for the things they do.  Maybe you jackals could learning a thing or two from them - it's called remorse.  Idiots.

Yo, club catlick - stop being sin nazi's.  What people do is none of your me-damn business...  It's my business.  I say this to Pope Frakenictus - "NO SIN FOR YOU.  GET OUT."

Peace to you which is all human understanding - Jesus!

I spoke to mother nature

So...  I'm sitting in the living room and decided I would check in with mother nature.  She has a Godphone, so I initiated a facetime session.  She was a ravaging lunatic.  It's like... she is hitting "that stage" in her life when the sun sets on her youth.  The truth is realized that fertility has snubbed her for someone or something new, something borrowed, something blue.  The economy is improving.  People are finally starting to upgrade again.

It was awful.  She was complaining of Hot Flashes, being all moody and such.  She makes Bi-Polar 1 look like as smooth as silk.  This chick was all over the map.

I didn't know what to say - everything I tried was met with either inappropriate crying or outright hostility.  I thought I was talking to a crazy lady.  I told her I loved her and I needed her to take care of all things meteorologically orientated for the mortals, and how valuable she is to me, the mortals and the operation of Planet Earth.  She provides a valuable service to maintaining happiness among you and keeping the ecological environment of Earth in delicate balance.  Working order.  A state of homeostasis.  You know - to give you the ability to grow food.  Transport goods, friends and family.  Facilitate social interactions, athletic recreation - everything taken for granted.  The bright, sunshiny days.  The gentle rain.  The gray of winter.  The violent storms with thunder and lightening.  Snow.  Earth.  Wind.  Fire.  You get the idea - I need mother nature and I count on her to take care of baby planet Earth.

As I watch her getting ready to respond, the next thing I see is horns growing out of her head - like satan's. I was freaked out completely.

I asked her to hold on for a sec.

I run to the 'medicine cabinet' and grab some weed and roll a doobie.  Light it up.  Inhale.  Hold.  Exhale.  Repeat the standard 3 times.  Plus one for good luck.   Ah, serenity now.  I waltz back to the living room to return to our conversation.

She is huffing and puffing and goes into all this non-relevant mumbo-jumbo about this and that.  I'm like, "Whoa...  I think you need to take a moment to collect yourself before we can continue talking."

Good me.  She looks at me and goes into this diatribe about I have never seen the fury of a woman scorned.  Well, I do know a scorned woman.   I stood by her as she was being humiliated and ostrasized by a group of men.  I say to them, "he who is without sin may cast the first stone."  They scowled at me, blushed and turned away.  Those guys were acting kinda juvenile if you ask me.  Anyway, I get down on my knees, give her a hug.  Kiss her cheek.  Lift her up.  Give her a pat on the head and send her on her Mary way.  From that point forward she makes a positive change in her life.  She is woman.  Hear her roar.   So yes, in a nutshell, I do know how to deal with nutjobs.

But, oh no...  She isn't wired like a normal person.  She goes off on this tangent about how she is so upset.  No one cares about her.  How can I possibly understand what she's been through.  Blahblahblah.  I tell her to chill.  She says "CHILL?  I'LL GIVE YOU CHILL. YOU %$#*!"  Whatever.  I politely discontinue facetime because it was blatantly obvious there was nothing I could do to restore a working relationship. Any attempts to further reconcile our relationship would be met with more crying.  More whining.  More dining.

By this time, I'm stoned out of my mind.  So relaxed about the entire situation.  I light up some incense to hide mary jane's odor - I can't deal with the fuzz doing some kind of raid while I'm trying to self medicate.

Less I digress....

So, I'm sitting in my house.  Meditating while watching my lavalamp do all kinds of crazy stuff.  I listen to the dull roar of your prayers.  My mind begins to wonder and I gently glide to sleep.

I wake up and I'm like, "man, it's really cold this morning."  I look at my thermometer.  It reads negative 85 degrees.  I turn on the news.  What the?  There is this huge winter storm in the states.  We're talking 30 out of 50 states with record lows.  100 million people affected.  Snow.  Ice. Earth.  Wind.  No fire besides the man made kind used to keep warm.

Dude - I didn't realize mother nature was such a wreck.  She's crazy.  How dare she jeopardize  happiness of the minions.  I think it might be time to post a job opening on the Jesus, Inc. (NYSE:  JSUS) website for a new environmental engineer.

The posting will start like this:  "World's most powerful and recognized brand seeks stable and competent environmental engineer.  Successful candidate will be working on long-term project maintaining and manipulating a dynamic ecosystem.  The ability to stir drama without getting carried away is a plus.   Excellent compensation package well above industry average.  Qualified candidates are welcome to submit a cover letter quickly summarizing what you'll bring to the table, a detailed resume'.  References are unnecessary.  Say a prayer and hope you get hired.  Don't call us.  We'll call you.  The one with the best prayer winds.  Please understand this is a temp to hire gig."

My purpose in not hiring a full time ministry assistant right off the bat is to test drive the candidate.  Make sure the candidate is the right fit for my organization and fellow team members.  You know how much I enjoy test drives.

Love, Jesus.
Commander in Chief
Jesus, Inc.