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I was at Institute tonight, which is kind of Mormon scripture class, and I was asked to read a short passage about an even that happened to Joseph Smith. He was dragged from his house, beaten, cut, almost had acid poured into his mouth, and tarred and feathered. As I read the tarred and feathered part, my mind siezed on a scene in the Simpsons:
Marge: Bart, you should say things like that, remember when you got Grandpa tarred and feathered?
Bart: Yah, that was five minutes ago.
Grandpa (walking past the room, tarred and feathere): I'm going to be in the tub for a while.
So I was sitting there reading this truely horrible, depressing passage and it took every ounce of will to keep going without cracking up into unsatiable laughter in front of 30 reverent students.
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By the way, this is an invitation to share your close calls, and also, an invitation to remember to put a 'd' at the end of words that God intended to end with a 'd'.
One of the lectors for Mass had to carry the Gospel book into the abbey church at the head of the procession. When she reaches the altar, she's supposed to set the gospel book on it.
She asks Father Mathias, "So, what do I do?" Father replies, "Just set it up there. Don't try to stand it up." Lector. "Why?" Father Mathias. "Look, I know you and how much your voice carries. If you try and stand it up, it'll fall over and you'll shout to everyone, 'Shit Father! I dropped it! What do I do?!'"
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Sometimes I take my jeans and undershorts off at the same time before I jump into the shower at night, leaving the shorts inside the jeans.
Sometimes I recycle yesterday's jeans and wear them a second day.
One time I forgot to take yesterday's shorts out of today's jeans.
I'm walking across the floor of the computer factory, and I feel a bulge sliding down my pant leg. I look down, and there's my underpants sitting in the middle of the factory floor. Fortunately nobody was looking, and fortunately I had a jacket on. I stuffed the dirty shorts in my jacket and started worrying about whether I would get intercepted on the way back to my car.
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It was the last day of elementary school 6th grade, and the teacher had just handed out the report cards.
A girl at the next desk was teasing me, so I passed her a note that said F-you. The teacher snatched it away and took my report card back. She took a pen and wrote a little note to my parents on my report card saying: "I think you will be interested in the enclosed note." She folded my nasty note and put it in the envelope with the report card.
The P.E. coach then stopped by the classroom and handed out a flier for his summer recreation program. Finally the teacher let us go.
While walking home I managed to extract my nasty note from the envelope and replace it with the summer recreation flier.
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