Odd Birthday Bits

Well, happy freakin’ birthday to me.  Fifty.  Five-O.  Fitty.  That’s what I’m going to say… “I’m fitty.”

Eh, they’ll just think I’m too drunk to say “fatty.”

It’s days like this that make the irritations of Facebook seem worthwhile.  Since I got up this morning I’ve been greeted throughout the day by Facebook birthday wishes.  I know it’s a simple thing but it makes me happy that that many people took the trouble to tap out a few words.

I also noticed that it’s mostly all women.  Dudes don’t really notice your birthday unless it pops up right under their noses.

This morning, Pinky told me she arranged an “event” for me this evening.  I’ll tell you more about that once I know more about it.  I know it will involve other people but I don’t yet know who they will be.

But I’ve already received my favorite birthday present… Lots of blog hits.  Ever since Thursday, I’ve noticed a spike in Google search hits about Lawrence Bishop, whose church I wrote about last year when his 62-foot Jesus statue got hit by lightning and burned to the ground.

When I finally got around to doing a Google search on him myself, I learned that he had been found unconscious and taken to the hospital on Thursday and died Friday night without regaining consciousness. 

Wow. Lightning strikes his statue one year, the next he basically drops dead. There's some serious karma, right there. If I were Mrs. Bishop, I'd think about folding the tent right now. But I'd be surprised if she did. That church and the Bishops are intertwined. I don't see anyone else stepping in to run things, nor do I see Mrs. Bishop taking this as any other sign but "God needed him right now, because he's so special."  (My words, not hers.  Those are “air bunnies.”)

I don't wish death on anyone and I'm sorry for their family's loss, but I would not be upset in the least if that nest of thieves closed their doors for good.

Let people send their money to some place that would actually carry out Jesus's word... like a place that would feed and clothe the needy, or provide a place to spend the night.  I’m pretty sure that Jesus never said, “Go out and have people give you money so you can build a giant church, live in luxury and ease your conscience by putting up a gaudy statue of Me.”

Anyway, I’ll take the hits.  But speaking of Google searches, a found a couple more doozies that landed people here this week:

“Angry bacon of pussy.”  I just don’t see “angry” being an appropriate word to go with bacon or pussy.  I’d go more with “delighted!”

“Honey badger sleepy fuck.”  I don’t know what the hell that is supposed to be.  Is “honey badger” a euphemism with which I am not familiar?  Like, “Oh baby, whip that honey badger on me…”

“I am a poon man”  Sounds more like a super hero… “I’m Poon Man!”  Brought to you by Summer’s Eve…

I don’t know what’s wrong with people… But back to the birthday track…

I opened a package from Bluz Sister and I pretty much knew what it would be, but still I was stunned by the beauty.

Bluz Sister knows I love pictures of birds and she did a nice little Baltimore Oriole for me, perched on a snowy pine cone.  I really wish I had that kind of talent.

I guess I’ll just have to take solace in writing my goofy stories in this little corner of the Internet.  So if you wished me happy birthday via Facebook, thank you.  You brightened my Saturday.  And if you haven’t, what are you waiting for?  Hit the comments below!

Lastly, Happy Birthday to Jessica, who today turned… much, much less than 50.  You rock, Blog Sister!