100% Pure Senseless Sunday Sarcasm
There is a grain of truth buried so deeply inside the “ridiculous” that you just have to laugh.
Instead of a meme, I’ll start out by saying that I was raised Methodist, but a very boring minister and 2 pedophiles in the church took care of that.
My children’s father was Jewish, and at one time I considered converting, but I can’t even convert right: First, you have to find a synagogue.
Just before he died, their father asked me to raise both of our little sweethearts in the Jewish faith.
That’s not as easy as it sounds: Orthodox and Conservative Judaism refused to recognize our children as Jewish, since lineage is determined through the mother. I always thought that was strange, since they both looked exactly like their dad.
My religious belief, at present, is somewhere between OMG! and
Yes — it’s downright electrifying.
I may not be Jewish, but I have to admit I’m this kind of mom:
There is so much fodder for sarcasm in religion.
God only knows I appreciate my steaks rare and my sarcasm well-done.
The second runner up for sarcasm fodder has to be…
I lived in California for over 4 years, so I feel qualified to laugh at it.
The first 2 things I discovered when I moved to the bay area (aka Greater San Francisco) were these two gems:
- The grass is brown in summer and green in winter.
- If you have a master’s degree, look for a job that requires a bachelor’s. If you have a bachelor’s degree, McDonald’s is always hiring.
Perhaps that’s why the road signs looked like someone with a degree in architecture put them together?
The 3rd thing I learned was never to sign up for a class without doing your research. “Find the best job for you” turned out to be 2 middle-aged women dressed as hippies (in 1987) holding a small drum and a maraca. We were told to lie down, listen to the music, and let the universe guide us to the right job.
Not one word about EDUCATION. Yes, you can be a doctor without one — until you’re caught.
Thing #4 was this painful truth:
I had sold a 3 bedroom, 2 bath home on a half-acre lot in Wisconsin, with a huge family room, for $68,000. When I moved to California, we considered buying a home. The back yard was 6 feet wide, it had 2 bedrooms, one bath, a living/family/kitchen room, and a price tag of $150,000.
Being inept in real estate I said, “HELL NO!” When I left the bay area a few years later, that house sold for over $400,000.
I will leave you with this senseless sarcasm gem:
If you’re told tomorrow that I died from a lightning strike, you’ll know why.
It was the leprechaun’s fault.