06 August 2006

Ooops, gotta run...

Honestly, what did Irish Bob expect? If you invite an arsonist to your house warming party, don't come across all aghast when your new house spontaneously, erm, warms.

Well, the repercussions for you. Dear readers, is that I shall be gone for a week to take some “tests” and as a result will not be able to write until Tuesday next. So, in order to avoid alienating my few readers that are not associated with law enforcement, I shall dash off some tripe and pick an easy target; Mel Gibson.

Mel, me lad, I liked you well enough in the road warrior series (except for that krep “Beyond Thunderdumb”) but I simply don't understand what you have against minorities.

I can almost see why you don't like the Brits; after all, they did invent the French, but let's let bygones be bygones, eh? The Brits have long ago publicly apologized and the French have given the world cognac, easily affordable fighter jets, Chirac jokes, Peugeots, Peugeot jokes and a ready disposal ground for some of our more disturbing celebrities like Jerry Lewis, Michael Jackson and David Hasslehoff.

So lay off them both, Okay?

However, I simply don't understand your beef with the Jews. So they killed Jesus (well, actually, no. That was a Roman fellow with a hammer, but anyway...), so what? Isn't the whole point of Christian theology that Jesus of Nazareth died for your sins?

I mean, spending three days in Hell has to have more salvation traction than Bob of Phoenicia who was beaten up rather severely for your sins, or Larry the Thracian with his nasty ingrown toenail.

Besides, if you read on just few more pages after the floggy, thorny, naily and jabby bits, you'll find out that Jesus gets better. No harm, no foul.

Well, that's not to say that I'd want to be that Roman bloke with the hammer. I think Jesus might want to have a word with him.

And that's the way I likes it.