my Sermon for Mark 5:21-43

what's up with you?

Ok, remember this video?


here are are some lyrics:

(Eddie)
Man ain't got the power To kill nothing but himself
Man is a creation Man is nothing else

(Eddie)
We can't stop this world 'cause it's not our world
we can just jack each other up
Heavenly Father's been mighty patient
He got your number, beat Your disease

(Michael)
He knows you're fallen (falling?), fallen, your fallen.

(Eddie)
Man is a creation. Man is nothing else.

I don't know what it means, but it it is something different than funny now.

g'day, mate

I drove to Chicago. Picked up Becca. It is very hot here. I want to kill the hot. If I had a knife, I would plunge it into the hot, then I would punch the hot and stomp on it.
I drank a grande java chip frapachino. I got it from a starbucks drive though. Becca said that it was very "soccer mom," then I talked in a lispy voice, pretending to be a soccer mom, but the accent didn't work out the way I wanted it too. I've been having troubles with accents. Let me rephrase that. I am no good at accents. English, Scottish, Australian, Irish. I always sound like a dying, demented clown with a sore throat. I threatened Becca telling her that I would talk in a fake British accent our whole time in England. I think I will. I will tell everyone else that they sound funny and that they sound speak properly.

Who is that guy? He looks familiar.

So I was watching clips of the Tigers/Cardinals game on the internet (You can do that now). In the eighth inning, Tiger left fielder Marcus Thames hit a home run that smacked of the top of the foul pole in left. As I was watching the clip of this on my internet-accessable macintosh apple internet machine computer, I noticed something interesting.
Here is a screen-shot of my desktop:



Of course, I chose an internet google image of a cartoon cat balancing on Luther's rose as the background for my computer (who doesn't?@!) This particular cat is very meaningful to me. He represents all of animals. and like, they want to be, like, baptized and stuff and they are people too! (fer sure.)
So, like, I was watching all the glory of the homerunness of Thames (it's pronounced "Timms!" Get it right! I know that you were saying "Taymes" in your head, dummy!) in my lappptoppp and I was, like, "Whoa!" Then I was, like, "WHOA!!! WITH THREE EXCLAMATION MARKS!!! WHICH MEANS I AM REALLY EXCITED/SHOCKED/ANGRY, BUT I AM NOT ANGRY, IT IS A COMBINATION OF AWESOMELY HAPPY/COOL/HIGH-FIVEITY"

I zoomed in my computer, like they do in Wesley Snipes movies, and I saw this!:



I thought (with my intellect/soul/spirit/mind/will/heart) that the gentleman wearing orange, just to the left of the foul pole, second from the bottom, looked very familiar.

So i told Wesley to zoom the internet in AGAIN!



AND AGAIN!



Whoever this man was he was handsome. I was lacking the technology to uncover this mystery, but then I had our specialist sharpen this image and this is what came up:



Jackpot. Just as I had suspected, he has been faking his death this whole time. Alert the authorities. I'm hot on the trail.

wow, oh, wow.

These stories make we want to avoid anything having to do with movies or mission trips when I become a pastor.

via the internet monk

thursday june

the coffee pot smashed into a million smitherines. today was to be a thermos day. it could have been a sleep day for it was surely a sleep night. my bed was a cloud and ferried me to the stratosphere, no, make that the ionosphere. when my head hit the pillow, my bed hovered around the room then bolted out the open window, through the rain, over the arch, and toward the moon. The sheets flapped in the wind like Old Glory over the Potomac. Ducks and Wild Turkeys seemed to be flying backwards. My bed was breaking every aviation record involving furnature, matresses, and linen. The thread count on my sheets increased a hundredfold. My comforter started her own afternoon talk show and women's magazine. Birds chirped, then I was shaving and making a mind altering pot of coffee. However, the coffee pot did not want to wake me up. It woke me down.

101 proof morning

I kept hitting snooze. then i was late. no time for breakfast. a little gargle. it was humid. there was a wild turkey strutting around the soccer field. the few drops falling did not provoke me to hoist my umbrella.