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Sep 4
I was driving through the fiercest global-warming-spawned blizzard ever, returning to my favorite gun-free zone, when an avalanche (like the one that killed Michael Jackson) buried me. I suspected that I would die soon (or soon enough) if Christ didn't intercede chop chop! I remembered several Bible verses and the Russian adage: β€œpray to God but row to shore.” I thought of my mother, Mather (Pa.), Jerry Mathers and the logic behind injecting pigeon **** to remove tattoos. Suddenly and unexpectedly out of nowhere demons pulled my car (with me in it) to safety. β€œHey, where's Jesus?” I asked. β€œHe'll be here in five minutes,” they answered. β€œFive minutes?” I guffawed & pshawed. β€œHe may as well not bother!”
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