The Greatest Bull-Shit Story Ever Sold (I’m Just Gettin’ Warmed Up For Easter) With ‘Sin’ Seared Apologies To Any ‘Readers-of-Faith’ I May Have Left. This Is Mainly ‘Tongue-In-Cheek’–And Humor. Shalom Y’all!

When I was a wee chile, tryin’ to survive in Fremont CA, Mother dragged me to theater, to screen “The Greatest Story Ever Told.”

I was NOT properly impressed.

Fu*k u Mom! Just Kiddin’!! I LOVED My Mother–Very Dearly–And As Previously Reported: My Mother Was The Original ‘Hippy-Chick’– She called herself a “Christian” But In Reality, She was an Atheist. Precisely why I Loved my Mother; I was an atheist, since I was first born, or hatched, Your choice.

The Greatest Story Ever Told (If told at Woodstock)

(And seriously Y’all, y’all need to watch the video First)

But before we go there enter:

This Post Will PISS some people Off (IF I am doing my job)

However I do NOT want to Piss Anyone Off (Not my job)

Ambiguous? Yeah!

So, therefore, and furthermore, and forevermore: I put below the ‘continue reading’ button.

And don’t shoot me: I just play piano here… on Tuesdays… and for milk money… for the kids.

Click at your own risk.

Cheers, Peace, Blessings, Love and Happiness & Joy (and I do mean all of that shit. Sincerely. Hey by the way, Anyone seen Joy? She was just here a minute ago…)

Cast of Characters:

Mary, Mother Mary, Virgin Mary, Mother of All Inventions conventions.


Joseph, Joe, Just Plain Joe, Cuckold, Erstwhile Surrogate Father of Jesus.


Ya gotta love Joe. Ya just gotta.

Baby Jesus, aka Baby Hey Zeus, aka, Christmas… Pre-sents


Not even gonna comment on this one, but, be my guest.


Saint Peter


Jesus Playing with the Mothers of Immaculate Conception, circa 0014 AD

Jesus grew up; tried to make a living, Playing Gigs.

But then…

Father told him to hang a right at Albequerky: Go to Max Yasgur’s farm in Bethel; see the people they will love your act. (He said)


You Really Didn’t Believe That “Rode Into Town on an Ass” bit did you?

“Would Jesus wear a Rolex on his TV show? Fuck Yeah!”

No! Seriously,”

“Check it out”


“I’m There Dude!”


Brother Failwell

Then Dad said, “Go Preach Your Ass Off!


Sermon on The Mount

(Chip off The Old Block)

And Jesus Said, “We’re there Dude! Just look at ‘em!”


Case Rested


Yay! Jesus!

“They’re eatin’ this shit up!
Hey! Judas! Come check this out!


Judas: Enema needing to Happen. “Nothing to see here; move along…”

Mary Mag! You too! (C’mere Baby!)”

“Sorry Dude. Busy. Get back to me, Yeah? Laters…BFF!”

“But Mary!? You carry… My Mom’s name! And now you tarry? Don’t make no sense!”

“Ah shit!
Here come those Romanians Again! Don’t these people ever give up? Gotta go!”


I love the smell of burnt Jesus in the morning

“As God as My Wit-less-ness, I shall never be hungry again! (As long as I have these radishes)”

Last Supper

Last Toke, I mean Last Munchies


Joe! Go Pick some Radishes. Jesus is hungry. And stop smokin’ that shit!

I did not put in The Crucifixion/Ressurection, (mainly because I don’t believe that shit and also because I could not find an example in the show) and also, mainly because at

Woodstock… drum roll please:

nobody had to die to save me.

It’s OK Jesus: I’m doin’ fine, but Thank You for askin’.

And Thank YOU to anyone who has travell’d this far with me.


P.S. “And don’t touch my bags if you please…mister customs man.

11 thoughts on “The Greatest Bull-Shit Story Ever Sold (I’m Just Gettin’ Warmed Up For Easter) With ‘Sin’ Seared Apologies To Any ‘Readers-of-Faith’ I May Have Left. This Is Mainly ‘Tongue-In-Cheek’–And Humor. Shalom Y’all!

  1. Reblogged this on Texan Tales & Hieroglyphics and commented:

    Since I have an appointment at Memphis International Air Port and since I cannot seem to post any new shit… I fall – back to re-bloggin’ in the vain hope I ‘catch’ some new readers… I do love all, y’all…

  2. And “Jesus Christ Superstar!”
    Wow! I am getting misty-eyed for some Seventies’ Stupidity.
    Cheers and thank you.
    Thank you for… well thank you Mad Annie.
    Now I have that GD ‘Hair’ song in my ear.

  3. I was only 12 when the only Woodstock that should ever count unwound an hour north of New York City, Lance. My next-door neighbor who went as a 16-year-old went and showed me his pictures.

    I was hooked, dude.

    I went to the 25th anniversary in 1994, in Saugerties. I went to the 30th anniversary in 1999, in Rome. Most excellent wannabe’s.

    Have a good day, freakazoid.

  4. Mark, Brother, I heart you.
    You made me seriously…and really… laugh out fucking loud.
    Here is yer free pass to my past.
    (don’t step on the daises, if you sneeze…er…please)
    My man!
    Gracias fer stopping by and soiling yer shoes.

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