The other day I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my comida and, as usual, ignoring whatever program my host family was watching on the TV. I wish I had not been so inattentive, because suddenly my host mom grabbed the remote, switched off the TV, and explained that the Bible tells us not to involve ourselves in "such things." Given the rather crude nature of Mexican humor, even on family programs, and the level of violence I've seen them watching in the kitchen, I'm just dying to know what Satan was trying to send us over the boob tube.
It appears Russell and I have found our third. Welcome to Pirate House, Mr. Shellenberg.
It has been suggested that I star in a "Bachelor" style dating show involving me and twenty single Brethren women. This awful idea snowballed until it developed an "Apprentice" like style and now features Ellen and myself competing for the same pool of Brethren bachelorettes, all hosted by Walt Wiltschek and Carrie Fry-Miller.
I have also heard that one of my poems will not only be featured in the Manchester literary magazine Spectrum, but will in fact be displayed on the advertising poster. My fame increases.
No comments:
Post a Comment