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One thousand and seventy-one words today. Nineteen thousand two hundred and eighty words for February.
The Red Bloat has finally arrived, and so my attitude can be summed up thusly:
Especially since the movie theater here in Endstage Mayberry bumped its showings of Fists of Fatherly Fury: Airplane Edition, A.K.A. Non-Stop in favor of Son of God, which is exactly what it sounds like. Because more Jesus is what this stagnant, provincial backwater needs. It's not like businesses paint "Christ is Lord" and "Jesus Saves" on their storefronts or people nail Scripture verses to telephone poles around here. Nope. We're starving for God. Never heard of him. Which might be why the schools are a joke and everyone is a dick. Actually, I suspect a heaping dose of Christian values are responsible for that, but there's no reasoning with the faithful.
The Red Bloat has finally arrived, and so my attitude can be summed up thusly:
Especially since the movie theater here in Endstage Mayberry bumped its showings of Fists of Fatherly Fury: Airplane Edition, A.K.A. Non-Stop in favor of Son of God, which is exactly what it sounds like. Because more Jesus is what this stagnant, provincial backwater needs. It's not like businesses paint "Christ is Lord" and "Jesus Saves" on their storefronts or people nail Scripture verses to telephone poles around here. Nope. We're starving for God. Never heard of him. Which might be why the schools are a joke and everyone is a dick. Actually, I suspect a heaping dose of Christian values are responsible for that, but there's no reasoning with the faithful.
