In one end
and out the other
My tummy rebels
My guts run for cover.
Viva la spices
Regurgitate flavor
Viva tortilla chips
Heartburn is thy favre.
Why do I do this?
The answer is pure.
Te amo burrito
Rolaids is the cure.
Q: Why do blondes wear earmuffs?
A: To avoid the draft.
Q: Why did the blonde stare at the can of frozen orange juice for two hours?
A: Because the can said “concentrate” on it.
Q: How do you make a blonde laugh on Saturday?
A: Tell her a joke on Wednesday.
Q: What is the blonde doing when she holds her hands tightly over her ears?
A: Trying to hold on to a thought.
Q: Why don’t blondes have elevator jobs?
A: They don’t know the route.
Q: Why do blondes work seven days a week?
A: So you don’t have to retrain them on Monday.
Q: How does a blonde commit suicide?
A: She gathers her clothes into a pile and jumps off.
…And the list goes on.
Now, I am a blonde, and I take absolutely no offense at these jokes. Why? Because I have a very close brunette friend with absolutely ZERO common sense.
Nah, just kidding. I do have that friend, but I actually have never taken offense to blonde jokes because I have better things to do with my energy. They’re just jokes. If someone is going to judge me based on my hair color, that person has a severe problem with self-confidence.
In fact, I can make my own joke about it. True story: What kind of faith opens locked doors without a key? Blonde faith.
The other day I walked right into a building not knowing it was locked, opening the door with no problem, and the person behind me (who happened to be a brunette) couldn’t get in for anything.
Perhaps the modern-day interpretation of “faith like a child” really is “faith like a blonde.” That statement is problematic though, because our culture equates “blonde moments” with stupidity, which is quite different from child-like innocence and wonder. Talk to any kid for 2 minutes, and he will knock you off your feet with the amount of knowledge in his brain. We’ve got 8-year-olds writing reviews on complicated internet technology, for crying out loud.
A more accurate interpretation might be having “blonde faith” instead of “blind faith.” According to urbandictionary.com, blind faith is “unquestioning of anything that is dictated by the religion of choice, no matter how foolish, or even if one “rule” (or “guideline”) contradicts another.” This assumes of course that Christianity is more about a set of rules than a relationship with the one true living God.
There are at least two interesting points to the definition of blind faith though. First, I suppose faith in God does look blind because, well, the things of God are a mystery, and we do only see in part. But that’s not the whole story. We are admonished to test the spirits and doctrines against the Word of God. Jesus cautioned us to be wary and wise as serpents. So we are not really supposed to take everything on blind faith according to the scripture.
Second, many things about Christianity do look foolish to the world. In a literal example of “blind faith”, John tells a story of Jesus healing a blind man. According to the story, Jesus spat in the dirt, made a mud paste, and slathered it all over the blind man’s face without even asking him.
Jesus did this as a demonstration of God’s glory, and he must have known the blind man’s faith, because if I went out proclaiming the healing power of God and started throwing mud at blind people, I’d probably get punched. And I honestly don’t know if I would risk looking that foolish to the world if faced with such a command from God.
I guess the moral of this is, the wisdom of this world will get you nowhere in the kingdom of God. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 1:27 that God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise.
So take heart, blondes. Our time is coming.
I shoulda changed that stupid lock.
I shoulda made you leave your key.
Belly, you seem to be sneaking your way back into my life. A fry here, a cookie there…now I’m three or four pounds heavier than I was a month ago.
Maybe my boobs are conspiring against me. They liked their resting place and they got tired of supporting themselves.
Well, too bad boobs. Get a job. It’s time to evacuate the free space that existed a half inch in front of me just four weeks ago.
Oh Belly of mine, how you have grown.
Through thick and thicker you have been there.
You have stayed close to me even as you protrude
farther out into the wide, wide world.
Now as I look down…at my toes
My heart is filled with so much woe
How could you leave me oh Belly?
Yet as I come to grips with this loss
I feel…lighter, somehow.
So as you depart from my life
I will remember the couch we shared.
All the fat, all the sugar
Disappears as I drink more water.
So long, sucka!!