Caterwauling

Subtitle: Jesus, won’t you buy a friend a beer

When life starts kicking your ass up and down Pennsylvania Avenue, everyone’s got their opinions on how you should handle it.

In Bush’s Kingdom, seems like everyone’s telling me to pray. The following graphic highlights instances of where this phenomenon is occurring to others like me:

The deal is that I have exactly four days to come up with my rent money (even though I told Shady Apartment Complex that I would need an extension because I’m waiting for an outstanding invoice that will cover most of it) or they lock me out. So is it possible to pray for the sky to rain cash?

In any event, the girls at the rental office had refused my plea (that I made more than a week ago) to give me a few extra days, telling me instead to pray. I had even told them that this month wasn’t going to be a problem; it was December that was worrying me, so could we save the humiliation for one measly month?

That answer was no, BTW.

Related, my grandfather gets ridiculously shoddy care at the Veterans Hospitals in Pittsburgh. I mean, they’ve let him have a stomach aneurysm for 10 years (and about six million other faux pas that I just don’t have enough bandwith to list them all), and what did they tell him at his last appointment (wherein they spent three minutes with him)? They told him and my mom to pray. (Is this contagious?) They also told my family to go to church every Sunday and sing hymns — that this would solve his medical problems.

So, after laughing my ass off at this, I came across the best hymnal while I was at the People’s Republic of Aimless Chatter (Thanks B!). …

On iTunes: Mojo Nixon & Jello Biafra, “Are You Drinking With Me Jesus?”

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 9th, 2004 at 8:48 AM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.