Goddamn skunks (whoops)

I would like to tell a little story about my drive tonight. It goes a little something like this...

As I was driving tonight, my mind was wandering as it tends to do on the deserted and winding roads in my particular inbred part of Texas. Just as I was almost completely zoned out and in full road hypnosis mode, a skunk wandered out in front of me. I swerved to avoid it and I almost ran into the ditch. "Jesus!" I exclaimed as I regained control of my awesome and sexy Chevy Cobalt (interested, aren't you, ladies?). That got me thinking about Jesus. I'm not a super religious guy, but I do believe in God and Jesus and the basic Christian ideas and principles, yet I make jokes about God and Jesus and the basic Christian ideas and principles. I'm a strange dichotomy of God-fearing man and complete and total douche.

Anyway, I started just thinking about Jesus in general. Jesus Christ. Christmas. Things along those lines. Then it occurred to me that if his name was something like Jesus Cockcrapsworth, how ridiculous it would be to celebrate a holiday called "Cockcrapsworthsmas." Then I felt those strange pains in my stomach. You know the kind. The ones caused by the internal struggle between the forces of what may or may not be comedy and your own morals and somewhat lax religious beliefs. Kinda like the ones I just felt as I typed the word "cock" after Jesus' name.

I drove extra careful after that. I didn't want to get in a wreck and die having that be the last thing I thought about. I didn't really want to meet my maker on those terms. It's like farting in a room mere seconds before a really hot girl walks in. Sure she might still like you, but the odds definitely aren't in your favor.

What's the point of all this? Where's the moral, db? I'll tell you. Don't avoid hitting skunks. Why? 'Cause skunks make you blaspheme. That's why. Next time you see one while driving, run the fucker over. You'll thank me later when you're resting comfortably in Heaven. Also, you'll be doing a service to unsuspecting French cats the world over. (See what I did there? Pepe LePew? I know what you're thinking and you're right. I should win some sort of award.)