joanierules.bloggermax.com
15.9.05—A Bigger Hammer Is Better Than A Smaller Hammer
Dear Spammers Of America,
Thanks for the multiple offers to increase the size of my penis. I really do appreciate it, as I am well aware of the problems that so many couples face these days. However, I really don’t need another 6 inches, and I certainly don’t need them by tomorrow. I also don’t want to generate 650% more sperm. Because I am a girl. So please stop sending me your ads.
Thank you,
Joanie A.
PS: Same goes for breast enhancement creams, pills, drink mixes, exercise books, Flobee-style vacuum cleaner attachments, or blessed Holy Water.
3.10.05—OH MY GAWD!!!
Really sorry I haven’t updated this in a while, but I have been very busy. It’s been weird, seriously weird. Fires, floods, dogs and cats living together, it’s chaos I tell you (however that goes).
Okay, this is going to sound extremely weird. Just bear with me here though, okay? Especially you, Barry—I’ve heard your rants on religion too many times already.
Last week I was walking to work. It was warm for a change, and sunny, and I also overspent on a bagel and lox and my Metrocard was out of rides so I had to walk, but I didn’t care. There was something in the air—and it wasn’t the urine-y smell. I was walking up 6th Ave and then I saw God filling up the sky. Really! GOD! He was everywhere all at once; beard, muscles, blazing eyes, streams of light coming out from behind his back, arms from horizon to horizon. And He pointed at me and told me He wanted me, Joanie, to raise an army and drive the English out of France! The voice, it was like sitting on a thunderbolt, I felt my whole body, the whole street, shake, but nobody else seemed to notice it, or when I fell to my knees. I’m agnostic!
I couldn’t speak, I could just stare up into the face of God (I can’t remember the details, I keep trying to sketch it out but when I look back at the page all I see is that I’ve drawn that optical illusion of a three-dimensional cube over and over) and listen as He spoke to me. “I am always with you, and I shall not abandon you. Drive the English back across the sea and save France for the Mother Church.”
This sounds ridiculous, I know. It’s like watching an old movie where everyone has a British accent, even if they’re supposed to be in ancient Rome or something. God is just impossible to translate…
The words weren’t like that at all, not like a conversation, just a FLOOD of pure knowing. Leadership, military strategy, French language skills, Scripture, wilderness survival, guerilla warfare, maps to towns and sewer systems all over Europe. At once, like slamming back a shot so quickly you don’t even know it’s gone down til it hits the bottom of your stomach. I want to type everything God said to me in ALL CAPS but I hate when I see that on other blogs.
Anyway, the long story short is that I’m in England now. If you ever go to London, definitely take Virgin Atlantic. It’s only $300, the food is great (for airline food) and they have old school Nintendo games to play. I also caught half of some movie about girls who win some surfer cheerleading squad competition. Lame.
If you want to know more about what is going on, turn on the news tonight. All the channels should be covering it.
7.10.05—All Quiet On The Western Front
The war goes well. The British swine were not expecting a war from within and we are routing them. Upon landing I met with my brothers and sisters in the Lord and we began operations immediately. We’ve centered our attacks in Knightsbridge, an area too populous for the RAF to risk bombing, and the block-by-block fighting are keeping units tied up here.
I killed four men today with my bare hands, God in heaven forgive this sinner.
Tomorrow we push forward and take out the Chunnel.
