For Irish: Blasphemous Wednesday

Since Irish reminded me of it, I'm going to post some of my favorite quotations from The Life of Brian. Don't worry. You won't go to hell for laughing. Unlike some of His creations, God has a sense of humor. You should see the dates He sends me out with. Seriously.

Coordinator: Crucifixion?
Prisoner: Yes.
Coordinator: Good. Out of the door, line on the left, one cross each.
[Next prisoner]
Coordinator: Crucifixion?
Mr. Cheeky: Er, no, freedom actually.
Coordinator: What?
Mr. Cheeky: Yeah, they said I hadn't done anything and I could go and live on an island somewhere.
Coordinator: Oh I say, that's very nice. Well, off you go then.
Mr. Cheeky: No, I'm just pulling your leg, it's crucifixion really.
Coordinator: [laughing] Oh yes, very good. Well...
Mr. Cheeky: Yes I know, out of the door, one cross each, line on the left.


Suicide Squad Leader: We are the Judean People's Front crack suicide squad! Suicide squad, attack!
[they all stab themselves]
Suicide Squad Leader: That showed 'em, huh?


Reg: [arriving at Brian's crucifixion] Hello, Sibling Brian.
Brian: Thank God you've come, Reg.
Reg: Well, I think I should point out first, Brian, in all fairness, we are not, in fact, the rescue committee. However, I have been asked to read the following prepare statement on behalf of the movement. "We the People's Front of Judea, brackets, officials, end brackets, do hereby convey our sincere fraternal and sisterly greetings to you, Brian, on this, the occasion of your martyrdom. "
Brian: What?
Reg: "Your death will stand as a landmark in the continuing struggle to liberate the parent land from the hands of the Roman imperialist aggressors, excluding those concerned with drainage, medicine, roads, housing, education, viniculture and any other Romans contributing to the welfare of Jews of both sexes and hermaphrodites. Signed, on behalf of the P. F. J. , etc. " And I'd just like to add, on a personal note, my own admiration, for what you're doing for us, Brian, on what must be, after all, for you a very difficult time.

(This is my *favorite* scene)

Matthias: Look, I don't think it should be a sin, just for saying "Jehovah".
[Everyone gasps]
Jewish Official: You're only making it worse for yourself!
Matthias: Making it worse? How can it be worse? Jehovah! Jehovah! Jehovah!
Jewish Official: I'm warning you! If you say "Jehovah" one more time (gets hit with rock) RIGHT! Who did that? Come on, who did it?
Stoners: She did! She did! (suddenly speaking as men) He! He did! He!
Jewish Official: Was it you?
Stoner: Yes.
Jewish Official: Right...
Stoner: Well you did say "Jehovah. "
[Crowd throws rocks at the stoner]
Jewish Official: STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW! STOP IT! All right, no one is to stone _anyone_ until I blow this whistle. Even... and I want to make this absolutely clear... even if they do say, "Jehovah. "
[Crowd stones the Jewish Official to death]


Judith: [on Stan's desire to be a mother] Here! I've got an idea: Suppose you agree that he can't actually have babies, not having a womb - which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans' - but that he can have the *right* to have babies.
Francis: Good idea, Judith. We shall fight the oppressors for your right to have babies, brother... sister, sorry.
Reg: What's the *point*?
Francis: What?
Reg: What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies, when he can't have babies?
Francis: It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.
Reg: It's symbolic of his struggle against reality.


Stan: It's every man's right to have babies if he wants them.
Reg: But you can't have babies.
Stan: Don't you oppress me.
Reg: Where's the fetus going to gestate? You going to keep it in a box?


Spectator I: I think it was "Blessed are the cheesemakers".
Mrs. Gregory: Aha, what's so special about the cheesemakers?
Gregory: Well, obviously it's not meant to be taken literally; it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products.



Brian: What will they do to me?
Ben the Prisoner: Oh you'll probably get away with crucifixion.
Brian: CRUCIFIXION?
Ben the Prisoner: Yeah, first offense.



Lead Singer Crucifee: [Dying on the cross] Cheer up, Brian. You know what they say: some things in live are bad. They can really make you mad. Other things just make you swear and curse. When you're chewing on life's gristle, don't grumble; give a whistle, and this'll help things turn out for the best. And... always look on the bright side of life...

Email Forwards Demystified

You’ve gotten this email, haven’t you? You probably have sent it to me. And yet every time I read it, I’m always slightly disturbed by it.

1. There are at least two people in this world that you would die for.

Easy: Jack Sparrow and…and…Shoot. I’ll come back to this one.

2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.

Awww, that’s nice. *starts counting on fingers* I can only think of 14, but whatever.

3. The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.

Unlikely, and since this should work in reverse, I don’t want to be damned bloody thing like Keith Schawo or Chris Roberts. I hope everyone is clear on that.

4. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.

I suppose this is reasonable. Smiles do make me feel better, even if they’re from the executioner.

5. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

This is the one that bothers me. Anyone else thinking about a guy on cell block 5, who as he goes to bed at night, thinks, “13 more months and I’ll get murder the little bitch.”?

6. You mean the world to someone.

Yes, apparently the guy on cell block 5.

7. You are special and unique.

Just like everyone else.

8. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.

Again with the guy on cell block 5. (Just what did I do to him anyway?)

9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.

Uh-huh.

10. When you think the world has turned its back on you take another look.

I do like to face the people I’m flipping off. Has more meaning.

11. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

And it’s always this one that makes me laugh hysterically that I received the forward. Come on. It’s like you guys don’t know me at all.

A Pirate's Life For Me: A Year Later

If you scroll back to Feb 2007 (Feb 9) to be exact, you'll find this post below. I have been feeling melancholy and pissy and weepy and all accounts depressed.

I'm also been feeling a need to dust off my resume and move somewhere far away.

Funnily enough, a year ago I felt the exact same way. Only, I don't want to work in retail...and I don't want to go back to school. I'm not exactly cut out for office work, where I'm currently miserable; and the more I try to write, the more I think maybe I'm not cut out for that either.

How do you figure out what you're good for?

As I sit at my desk, trying to get out of doing folders (story of my life), I look down at my little desk companion, Captain Jack Sparrow Bobblehead, and I think, God, what I wouldn’t give for a Miami Vice right about now. (Miami Vice being the name given to a Carnival Cruise drink that was a layered drink of half pina colada and half strawberry daiquiri. Rum is a beautiful thing.) *taps Jack’s braids and he agrees with a bobble nod*

If I had my druthers, I would be sitting on a beach in Grand Cayman with my Miami Vice and my bobblehead doll (the real Jack Sparrow is temporarily unavailable), and I soak in the warm delicious sunshine, blind fellow beach combers with my pasty white skin, and dream about being a pirate.

No, not the scurvy, short life expectancy parts. The interesting parts. Rum, wenching (can men be wenches? I mean I know they can be bas…oh, well, men-wenching), and freedom. I long for the dissolute life. Probably because I’m so damned Amish. The Other Side calls to me…Freedom calls to me. Bobblehead Jack agrees. Well, he should, he put the idea in my head, after all. He said it, tapping his rum bottle to Miss Swann’s, when they were toasting. “To Freedom!” Aye, to freedom.

And I admit there is a lure there. It cannot be denied as I sit at this desk, staring at folders, watching my single, all-I-need-now-is-a-damned-cat life unfurl before me as I continue to do folders and people please and defer. Not Jack. Not if you’re a pirate. You please yourself—and you make every moment count because you’re not going to live long enough to need a damned cat. (Though they do make good companions. Don’t get me wrong.) And you don’t even bemoan the fact you’re single and rootless, without family—because you have friends who are like family—and you have all the bed companionship you want once you hit port. Well, at least if you’re Jack. I imagine I could do all right if that’s what I sought. Show up naked and bring beer—I could have all the companionship a girl could want.

Plus I’d get to sail a ship and live on the ocean…and being a Pisces, that almost holds more lure than having all the rum we can handle, and I assure you, Pisces are horrible alcoholics. Where’s my rum?

If you could do anything else right now? Rock star, Vegas show girl, oh, hell, school teacher—what would it be—and why? How DO you figure out what career you should be in?