Catholicism: Because religion should hurt.

I think I have a future in marketing.

Then later on, at the reception, I invented a new drink. It's Manischewitz and Crown Royal with a splash of Bloody Mary mix. I call it "The Crucifiction" because it'll nail you to the wall.

Yes, I know I'm going to hell. Probably in the next few minutes. In fact, I'm reasonably certain I detect the faint aroma of brimstone in the air as I post this. Eternal Damnation, party of one!

Anyway, so then, earlier this week, I had an amazing religious sort of epiphany. See, the other day, I spent the better part of a morning with giant gobs of peanut butter in my hair. Not intentionally, mind you. I don't generally make a habit of smearing condiments on my head. It just always happens whenever I eat peanut butter. I don't know how, I really don't. I mean, I try to be careful, you know? It's not like I fling peanut butter around all higgledy piggledy. I mean, sure, whenever I eat anything, I usually manage to spill it on myself. But for some reason, the mess resulting from peanut butter consumption is seven billion times worse than the mess from anything else. And I never discover it myself either. It usually takes someone saying, "Dude, what the fuck is in your hair?" to make me aware of the peanut butter chaos surrounding me. I'll then find it in my hair, on my clothes, on the wall, the ceiling, my computer, and on everyone and everything within a ten foot radius. I really have no idea how it happens. I suspect peanut butter might just have it out for me, but that theory is unconfirmed.

But, so, anyway, I told my brother about the most recent peanut butter-in-the-hair incident, and he kept shaking his head saying, "Only you. What the hell is wrong with you, and why does this shit only happen to you? Jackass." I kicked him in the shin and ran away, thus ending the conversation the way most of our conversations end. Later on, however, as I sat on the couch surfing the channels (like I do), I thought about what he'd been saying. Why do these things happen to me? I mean, everyone has stupid things happen to them from time to time, but I take being a jackass to a whole new level. Other people might do stupid things, but when I do them, it’s ten times worse and it happens ten times as often. WTF, right? As I mulled it over, I became aware of the television program in the background. I’d stopped surfing channels when I became distracted by my philosophic ponderings, and I’d just so happened to land on a religious channel. There was some religious talk show on, and the host was talking about Jesus and how He took on the sins of the world and died for us and etc. and so forth. And hearing him talk reminded me of the Catholic wedding and the priest who also talked about Jesus and sins and such and so on. And it was at that point that it hit me: I am like Jesus, only for dorks. Jesus took on the sins of the world, and I take on the social blunders and jackass maneuvers. Jesus was crucified, and I crucify myself on a daily basis. I’m like the geek savior or something. I commit outrageous acts of buffoonery and embarrass myself daily with ridiculous mistakes and gaffes so geeks don’t have to.

As much, at least. Or something. I’m still working out all the details, but I really think I’m on to something with this.

And by, “on to something,” I mean, “on the express train to Hell,” but whatever.

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