the third multi-annual parade of pictures taken from random blogs

Jesus climbed to the top of the mountain and looked down upon the land. He thought to himself, "This will be the coolest bass jump ever. Of course, it has to be... for I am the lord and no previous jump from any point shall reach anywhere near the point of being as cool as this jump... I have spoken and it will be so..." The lord had a way with words. He stretched his arms to a painful length, a pose that reminded him of his previous attempts at extreme sporting. The scars on his hands and feet were a constant reminder of what happens when you "Punk" the Roman Empire.
It was time for his third coming (because the second coming of Christ happened somewhere around the 70's... and the Lord brought Disco). With his arms stretched across the heavens, Jesus leapt from his hallowed peak and bass jumped all the way to Earth. His third visit would prove to be the "illest vacation ever."

When Jesus hit the ground he instantly regretted the choice of bass jumping. "Ascention was sooo much sweeter," he stated in a muffled huff. He had landed face first in a random Illinois suburb and there was a draft. His robe had gotten wrapped around his head, the breeze was good for a while. "There is nothing like a cool breeze on the dangles... this is what makes the world a decent place," said the Lord.
Jesus dusted himself off and turned to see a young teenage boy aghast with excitement.
"Dooooode! That was the harshest landing I've ever seen. You landed so hard it blew your pants off!"

Jesus laughed at the thought of wearing pants. Pants simply got in the way of his extreme sport lifestyle. Once before, when Christ had tried pants, he found them too constricting... and the leg of his Levi 501's managed to become entangled in his motorcycle's powerchain, which really screwed up his landing. Although Jesus was the king of the "big air," he still had a difficult time sticking the landings...
"Navin, that is a sweet scooter," sayeth the Lord.
"S'ats right it's a sweet scooter," replied Navin the youngest of the brothers Johnson, "This thing is hella tricked out and is .05 points just below illegal. I gotta keep it street legal or moms will ground me and take away my allowance. If the cheddar gets cut off, I've got to run the pink slip on this thing and I cannot afford to lose this scooter, yo."
Jesus nodded in assured acknowledgement. "Much respect, Navin," Jesus retorted, "Much respect. However, you should not bet on racing, my son. The big 'G' doesn't really approve of such deeds. I mean, I ain't gonna tell him what you're doing with your scooter... but you should probably be curtailing your racing habits."
"Doesn't God always watch us?" Navin asked with a concerned scrunch stretched across his face.
"Yes, he is always watching... but last week he's really been into Nascar... and all hell is breaking loose. That's why I had to come back to Earth. To set things 'scraight'."
"I'll help you, Jesus," said Navin. "We can use my scooter to track down the evil-doers... doees... duers... how do you say that? ...Evil Dudes, and smite them back into righteousness."
"Word," Jesus smiled. Navin and Jesus would work together to right the evils of the world... the prophecy had now begun.
"Let's be blood brothers," Navin exclaimed.
"Do you really want to cut your hand? I mean, I'm good... still got the holes from the nails and everything... but that kind of sucked, so you might want to avoid that," spoke the J-man.
"Oh, wait... what if I drink your blood? Does that make me a vampire? I don't want to be a vampire because then I wouldn't be able to go out during the day... and the 7-11 store doesn't stay open all night... and then I'd have to get lights for my scooter to race at night... drinking your blood won't make me a vampire will it?"
"Gee... I never thought of it that way," pondered Jesus, "Well, let's just go to the church and drink some vino instead. They say that red wine is my blood, so that should work. We might want to get you baptised or something too. And if there are going to be Vampires, we'll need holy water. I got the cross thing taken care of though."
"You're pretty smart, Jesus," smiled Navin.
"Dude, I know."
Jesus hopped on the back of Navin's scooter and they rocketed across town to the Catholic church. Within the church they would find "the blood of Christ" and only then could Navin and Jesus become blood brothers.... because being a vampire would suck. The scooter came to a slow whine as they made the corner in front of the cathedral.
"Is this the place?" asked Navin.
"Sho' nuff," replied Jesus. "This will work out well. I know the guy that runs this place. He is a real righteous dude."
Navin and Jesus marched up the stairs toward the doors of the cathedral only to find that the door was locked.
"Isn't this your dad's house?" Navin asked.
"Yeah, but he's not home today... it's Tuesday. He's probably making spaghetti."
"Well, how do we get in?"
"Dude... I'm Jesus... I have a key."
Jesus noticed a sign adjecent to the roadways just in front of his Dad's house. He laughed so heartily at the sign that milk came out of his nose... and he hadn't drank milk since Feburary of 2003.
"That's false advertising," Jesus said aloud.
"Whatever do you mean of Lord of Lords?" queried Navin.
"Dad's not hangin' out in the sky. He's on vacation in Florida. Last week he was playing skee-ball in Jersey."
"Oh, like that movie that Kevin Smith made?" Navin chuckled to himself.
"Yeah, kind of like that," Jesus replied, "But he didn't dress up like Alannis Morrisette. He prefers to go out dressed up like Fabio. He's just fascinated with that 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. I mean, he's God and he doesn't know how they make it taste so much like Butter. "
"What does that have to do with Florida?" Navin asked.
"Shut up, dude. Do not question my dad... he works in mysterious ways."
Jesus raised his arms to the heavens and there was a great crack and rumble. The melodic harmony of angelic voices made Navin's heart soar. The doors creaked and opened wide allowing them access to the interior of the church.
"Show me how you did that," said Navin.
"I'm not really sure how I did it," Jesus said, "I've been able to do that since the age of 13. It really comes in handy after a night of healing and putting leppers back together. It doesn't work too well with Zombies though. But anyways... I'm pretty bad about losing my keys... you know... they don't make these tunics with pockets."
Just then a mighty growl echoed through the chambers of the cathedral.
"I'm hungry," Navin cried.
"It's okay... we'll get some bread and you can eat me... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I'm funny," Jesus joked. "Let's go make a sandwich."

...to be continued.

the second multi-annual parade of pictures found on random blogs

"If there is a God, and he's paying attention... he can stick his big toe up my ass, there is no way I'm going to tell my father that I take it in the pooper," Duke screamed across the lanolium fields. Although he was a seasoned war veteran after decades of fighting the villanous armies of Cobra, he still preferred the non-sanctioned red jump suits over the olive drabs. "Drab... that doesn't even begin to explain the way those baby-shit green mandibles sit on my hips," he was often heard remarking. Everyone dealt with his openess in "this man's army" because in a pinch, he was the best man in a fox hole... if you know what I mean.


There was a very uncomfortable day in late Spring of 2007 when Angelina Jolie and Jennifer Aniston happened to sit side by side on the park bench adjacent to the lake... both breast feeding their new sons. Even then, the man in her life couldn't resist the temptation of those mammoth boobs. Secretly Jen felt hollow inside. So she stabbed Anglina in the "babymaker" with a nail file.






On his 21st birthday, Raymond finally came out of the closet, tucked back his manhood, put on his "pretty dress" and went out for a night on the town with his dark skinned boyfriend Cocoa Channel. Cocoa had already taken the initiative to get the horomone injections and the "tits" were coming in nicely. Neither of them minded that there was still penis involved in the equation... actually they preferred it... and so did the bearded woman in their life. They would never have to cry in the closet again. Guiness for everyone!!



"If you put on a dress I'll take you out for the biggest steak dinner you've ever seen. Mississippi won't know what hit 'em," Earl stated with a drunken feverish grin. Christmas was the one time of year when all were jolly and he could get some 'poon from that God-fearin' wife of his. They had only been married for two years but his dear Prudence had already let herself go. She didn't cook too much... but she did love her soap operas. At least this way he knew that his wife would always be his. And Earl did like his jelly rolls... "I like big butts and I cannot lie," he snarled as he spit a rancid tar-like substance into a styrofoam cup.








THE REASONS MY WOMAN FELL IN LOVE WITH ME:

1. "I don't care how pretty she is... somewhere there is a guy that is utterly tired of her stupid whiny bitch-ass bullshit."

2. "Shut the fuck up when the game is on... and get me a beer."

3. "I don't care about your needs. I'm a man and when I finish you swallow."

4. "I will go Ike Turner on your ass so fast."






U2 had been stretching their popularity for decades. Their one and only fan no longer wanted to hear Bono rant and rave about hunger and Aids. Here merely wanted the sweet southern guitar swirls of Lynard Skynard.
Little did U2's only fan know, that in fact he was at the opening night showing of "Uncle Fester's Transvestite Interpretive Dance rendition of Godzilla vs. Mothra."
A lot of lipstick was smeared that day. Nothing breaks my heart like crying transvestites.







Apparently Spanish ninja's look like a penis.













This is John Travolta's other nerdy habit. He likes to dress up like Uma Thurman's character in Pulp Fiction, invite Tom Cruise over to the house, strap one on, and dry hump 'ol Tom on Oprah's couch. The key to the outfit is comfortable shoes.
Then he eats a life sized waffle and shits out a 747 sized turd... named DeAngelo the Fecal king of Mondavia.

my love affair with Christopher Walken

Can of TaB you taste so sweet,
He really can fix robot feet.
Robust soup made out of Otters,
I wish Chris Walken was my father.
Sure did like The Deer Hunter,
Too bad life is such a blunder.
Oscar gold has been so good,
Pull the trigger and kill James Woods.
Howdy partner, how's it hangin'?
Every chick he should be bangin'.
Rock the hair, you acting stud.

A poem written by your Bud.

the first multi-annual parade of pictures found on random blogs

If the post title wasn't enough to give you a hint... these pictures were all found on random blogs through random surfing on random days. They made me laugh. I'm here to share them all with you. This may take place from time to time... especially when I can't think of any good nonsense. Motoguzzi ketchup feet! Sanjuro!