THOUGHT OF THE DAY #4

"I wonder if I should 

do another "Army Guy" BlermonTM

today or go with a "Thought of the Day" instead?"

Stayed tuned to this BlulpitTM (blog-pulpit) and we'll BOTH find out!

As together we stand and sing.

BP 

MOVING ON, WHINING OFF

I am always so AMAZED at people's capacity for whining.  It seems limitless.  Indubitable.  Whatever the word is.  It's what we do.

The most UNtalented person in the world can whip out a world-class whine and win a contest with it without breaking wind.  And I think it's only gotten worse over the years.  I see Whiners all around me, like sharks at a tuna festival.  

Thank goodness the guy who invented the "Smiley Face" isn't around to see all this.  If he saw how truly whiny the world has become, it would break his "Happy Heart".  A lifetime of circles and yellow paint all for nothing.  Tragic.

I LOVE the "Smiley Face" guy, by the way.  He's always been a particular hero of mine.  I hope he was a Preacher.  Anyhow...

Whiny people seem to be able to continually fill their "Whiny Cups" to the brim from some secret source of dis-satisfied grumpiness known only to the stupid and selfish.  They are privy to a bottomless pit of mental goo that can stink up a room faster than a sweaty skunk who works at a pig farm.  

Bottom line: I HATE Whiners!  They get on my ever-last nerve.  I don't mean to whine about it but...you get it.

Which is why it's a good thing I wasn't Moses.  If I had been Moses and had to put up with THAT bunch of HIS for FORTY YEARS, trust me -  about the 2nd time somebody mouthed off about not "diggin' the manna this morning" there would've been some tar-covered ex-brick makers BEGGIN' me to make manna waffles! 

I can't help it.  When I'm hot I'm just not as patient as I normally am.  And the desert is HOT.  And the desert with whiners is unbearable.  Kill 'em, Moses.  They've got it comin'.

If you really wanna see some Whiners, try BleachingTM a semi-daily BlermonTM some time.  With your very first posting, Whiners will magically appear out of thin air, like that Kazoo guy from The Flintstones.  

"I didn't like that last BlermonTM, Preacher."

"Why don't you be more funny, Bleacher?"

"Joel Olsteen never BleachedTM about a Yugo, BleacherTM."

"Army Guys aren't scriptural, Preacher."

Oh, cram it.  All of ya.

It's enough to drive me crazy...IF...I paid attention to it.  Which I don't.  Then again,  I ignore FLIES too but they still bug me at a picnic.

Look, other Preachers may care what "the multitudes" think about manna and blogs and dog illustrations.  I have other more PRESSING things to worry about.

Like where can I find some more boxes.  Pronto.

You see, Gidget and I are in the process of pretending to move.  We do it about every 6 months.  Keeps us on our toes.  A Preacher has to be ready to move at a moment's notice.  One never knows when some grumpy Elders will get frisky and send you on down the "Road To Damascus."  At least getting fired allows me to reuse sermons - which I love.  

Anyhow, so we practice moving - like a fire drill.

But as you know, "Pretending to Move" happens to be one of the top 2 stressers of life.  The TOP stresser is a "Writing a Semi-daily Blog in the Face of a Bunch of Whining Whiners".  

Obviously, I can't tell you WHERE we're pretending to move just yet.  That would be far too dangerous.

You see, between my rabid, psycho fans (of which there are almost 2) and the number of fellow Preachers of the Preacherhood I have offended and/or ticked off  (of which there are literally thousands),  I have to keep my whereabouts unknown for now.  

Let's face it, you haven't seen REVENGE till you've seen a flannel graph lovin', overhead projector, filmstrip Preacher coming after a modern, tech-savvy, Blurch-Blogging Fool   like myself.  It can get pretty nasty. 

Also, some members of this BlongregationTM would have me believe that I've had some pretty crummy postings this week.  "Thoughts of the Day", "Army Guys Theater", "blah blah blah", whatever else, just don't AMAZE people the way they used to.  Goes over their head these days, I guess.  Well so what?  I'll have to file their dis-satisfication under, "Not my problem."  

Look, I've been BUSY this week, OK?!  I've been
PRETENDING to move, for cryin' out loud!

Now, am I BLAMING some rather lame-o BlermonsTM on the fact that I'm pretending to MOVE? 

Of COURSE not!

On the other hand...YES!

Then again: WHO CARES?!  

Let's see YOU find boxes for Gidget at the grocery store 12 hours a day, and THEN  go home and write an award-winning blog on the KITCHEN FLOOR...EVERY DAY!  
 Shoot!  Most of YOU don't even READ this thing every day.   If EVER!  Some of you aren't even reading it NOW!

So quit whining and GO FIND ME MY TAPE GUN!  

Then strap in and  get ready for some more "Army Guys"  "Thoughts of the Day" and BlermonsTM I write like burping. Semi-Lame-o BlermonsTM are all I have time for right now. I'm thinking of making them a series. You will read them and you will like them!

Like my daddy used to say to me, "If you DON'T like the peas and insist on gaggin' on 'em at the table anyway, then SUPPER...IS...OVER!"

And I say that in all Christian love...of course.  

Blah, blah, blah.  Whatever.


As together we stand and sing.


BP

ARMY GUYS BIBLE STORIES (#5)

The Army Guys Bible Theater presents

"The Army Guys" in:

MOSES GETS READY TO PART THE RED SEA!

Fabulous.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

ARMY GUYS BIBLE STORIES (#4)

The Army Guys Bible Story Theater presents:

"Abraham and Issac Take a Hike" 
Genesis 22:6-10

As together we stand and sing.

BP

OH MOTHER, MY MOTHER

Well, the results are in.  It is official.  The search is OVER!

And I am happy to announce that:

MY MOTHER IS THE GREATEST MOTHER IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!!

 

I know many of you WITH mothers of your own are SHOCKED by this news.  I don't blame you.  It must be tough to take.

I understand. 

It happens. 

How embarrassing for you.

The GOOD news is: all of YOUR mothers came in SECOND!  

On down.  

You can check the bulletin board for the official race results.  Wherever the bulletin board is.  

Bottom line: 

My Mom's the BEST!  Nanny, nanny poo poo!

I wish you all knew my Mother.  So beautiful, so smart, so funny, so loving.  She was the woman who raised me, who showed me right from wrong, and who gave me my very first taste of Vienna Sausage in a can.  

I can still taste it's meaty, tin-y, perfume-y aroma wafting up through the memories of some long ago paper plate lunch.  Oh, what VIENNA must be like!  

I love bibs.

She was also the one who gave me my now, semi-famous, semi-global renowned name: 

PREACHER.

Didn't know that did ya?  Preacher is my actual NAME.  Which is pretty handy considering I AM a Preacher.   Thank goodness she didn't name me "Guy Who Licks Sidewalks  For A Living". 

I know that seems odd to many of you to be NAMED a profession - but for OUR family, it was pretty standard.  

I have a cousin named "Brick Layer" who lays bricks.  

I have a brother named "Dental Hygienist" who does... whatever they do.  

And I have a sister named Michelle...who refuses to do any work at all.  We used to call her "Baby Sitter" but it didn't work out.  Anyhow...

Most importantly and above all, my Mother taught me how to be a Preacher.  As many of you know, without THIS gift...I would be what is called...homeless.  I have exactly NO other skills. 

I first began preaching at the age of 15 months.  Late for our family.  I guess I was what many might call a "Wild Child", a "Lost Soul", a "Bad Baby".  But I couldn't help it.

For some reason, I had to "sow my wild oatmeal" for a few weeks before settling down. I had to see what was on the other side of that kitchen, stretch my goo goos a little bit, watch some late afternoon cartoons.  

At that time in my life, I showed no interest in preaching at all, choosing instead to stick marbles in my mouth, walk around in dirty diapers and take lots of unscheduled naps.

I hit, I bit and I chewed with abandon!

Whenever I could get my hand on 'em, I sucked on stranger's car keys.

I hated takin' baths, which made me sticky much of the time, to say nothing of stinky and gooey.  

I demanded my own way, and often got it...'cause I could PINCH!  

I touched things I wasn't supposed to, I heard  things I wasn't supposed to and I refused to SHARE. 

I didn't have solid food for weeks, preferring instead to DRINK my lunch...and dinner...and breakfast.  I drank ALL the time.

I peed where I slept.  Sometimes at night, other times just ridin' in the car.

I was like an animal shelter puppy out of control.  

Had it not been for my dear, sweet Mother, I would've eventually found myself in some play pen, not saying please or thank you and gumming t-bone steak to a glutenous pulp.

But right when I needed her most, my Mother intervened.  At just the right moment, she gave me what I didn't even know I wanted.  And in April of 1964 she put me in a three piece suit, built me a 4 inch pulpit, and helped me write my very first sermon entitled: 

"Bye, Bye Bad Baby:

My Life of Sin and Redemption." 

It sold over 121 million copies - all to other babies, who couldn't read and just sucked on the pages - which is why we have no remaining copies.  Still, it was the turning point of my life.

And the rest is...blah blah blah...whatever...back to Mom.

And so, it is with great pride, eternal joy, undying LOVE, unchallenged devotion, and supreme gratitude I say here and now for all the world to hear:

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

I LOVE you, MOMMA!  

You are hands down,

THE

absolute 

BEST!

and...

Your Mother's Day card will be about 2 days late.

As is my custom.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

ARMY GUYS BIBLE STORIES (#3)

The Army Guys Bible Story Theater presents:

"The Sermon On The Sponge"

As together we stand and sing.

BP

ARMY GUYS BIBLE STORIES (#2)

The Army Guys Bible Story Theater presents:

"THE FALL" 

Part 1 - "Before The Fall"

Part 2 - "After The Fall"

Bravo.  These guys are good.  

As together we stand and sing.


BP