Livin on a prayer — the literal edition
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?”
November 9th, 2004 at 3:24 PM
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz,
My friends all drive Porches, I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz.
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a color tv,
Dialing for dollars is trying to find me,
I wait for delivery, each day until three,
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a color tv.
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town,
I’m counting on your Lord, please don’t let me down,
Prove that you love me, and buy the next round,
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town.
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz,
My friends all drive Porches, I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
Oh, Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz.
(sorry, your subtitle made me do it)
michael
mikeiam.net
November 9th, 2004 at 5:36 PM
Sing it, doll! That song rings true on just so many levels. Made me smile! 🙂