Thursday, 12 November 2009

Jesus wept

QT pushed the trolley around Kafka's Labyrinthine Supermart, and stopped by the Kafka's budget branded powdered water. Too expensive. He failed fiscally in even making that demographic bracket. He then noticed Jesus over in the tinned - ocean harvest fresh - fish isle.

Heard the good news Jesus? ... find budget branded products cheaper elsewhere, and Kafka's will refund you the difference. Less taxes.

Fuck off.

Love thy neighbour?

I hate myself; therefore, by logical extension, I hate you too. And you're not my neighbour, not even in the geographical sense, even less in the metaphorical or metaphysical sense. Theologically speaking.

He nodded in the direction of his basket which was filled with the finest banded H2O DRY range.

You want to be careful that doesn't transform into wine or you'll end up a dry alcoholic!

You disgust me.

Aesthetically or morally?

All of the above.

Well, cheer up: it might never happen!

Have you read the Bible? It did happen.

So, anyway, how's it hanging otherwise?

Do you want to me to punch you in the face with this spike?

Jesus lifted a skinny fist, clenched, so you could see the rusty nail poking through the torn, translucent flesh, waved it in the air before him in half-hearted menace, and then broke down, sobbing.

You still dating Madonna?

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