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Everything Jesus Shamed Me For In Church This Christmas

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[I walk into church, find my pew, kneel, fold my hands, and look up at Jesus on the cross]

Me: [sighs] Heyyyyyyy Jesus.

Jesus: Well hello, Rob. So good to see you.

Me: That sounded a little sarcastic.

Jesus: Well it’s just been so long…

Me: Yeah…

Jesus: Feels like it’s been year…

Me: Yeah…

Jesus: Because it’s been literally a year. You haven’t been to church in a year. Since last Christmas.

Me: I’m, uh, yeah that’s my bad. It’s just that, uh, Sunday mornings are pretty rough for me…

Jesus: Yes I’m well aware that you’re an alcoholic and also pretty lazy. That’s why we have 5:00 PM masses on Saturday nights. We saw the Irish coming from a mile away.

Me: Yeah…

Jesus: Oh right! You’ve usually started drinking by about 3:00 PM. At the latest. You realize we have wine, right?

Me: Well I wonder who made me this way?

Jesus: My dad gave you blue eyes, white skin, and the mental capacity to cultivate a moderate, and I do mean moderate, ability to write–

Me: Ah c’mon Jesus…

Jesus: He’s not the one pouring Rumple Minze down your throat in a drinking competition you initiated and were ultimately the only one to compete in after you vomited on the bar.

Me: That was to celebrate Christmas.

Jesus: Not sure how you thought substance abuse and a human fireworks display was more fitting than, say, a donation to a charity.

Me: Cool I’ll cut a check to Planned Parenthood when I get home.

Jesus: Don’t be an asshole.

Me: Sorry, sorry.

Jesus: And, oh I see you have a lady with you.

Me: Yeah I assume you’re aware that’s my girlfriend.

Jesus: Oh not your wife?

Me: Uh, no. Why?

Jesus: You just seem to be doing a lot of “husband and wife” things with her.

Me: Are you talking about the time we went to a pumpkin patch, or…

Jesus: Referring to the intercourse.

Me: Jesus, Jesus. Are you… are you watching us?

Jesus: Ew, no. I mean, all of God’s creations are beautiful, and she’s honestly lovely, but [Jesus looks me up and down] God no.

Me: You know, what we do is an expression of love, Jesus. Okay? Love. That’s a good thing.

Jesus: I’m going to loop your alcoholism back in here and go ahead and say what you did, just as one example, on a Saturday night about two months ago, while blackout drunk, wasn’t love. It was just… gross.

Me: I don’t recall that.

Jesus: Right, you were shitfaced. Well, shitfaced for a normal human. Slightly drunker than usual for you. Which, again, ugh. I’ll see if I can jog your memory. Here are some of your quotes from that particular [Jesus rolls his eyes] “expression of love”. [Jesus pulls out a notebook] Let’s see, there was, “C’mon let’s just try it babe.” And then, “C’monnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn pleeeeaaaaaasssssseeeeeeeeeee.” Then, “Fiiiiinnnnneeeee uggghhhhhh”. Do you know what sad sight a naked, fully erect man whining like that is? Your girlfriend is a saint. And that’s coming from me.

[I bury my face in my hands and shake my head]

Me: I hate me.

Jesus: Oh I’m not done. A little later you said, “Hold on I gotta piss. Don’t go anywhere.” Then you pointed and winked at her. Gross. At some point you said, “Make the dog stop watching.” Then after the dog wouldn’t stop watching and you two kept going I believe you declared, to the dog, “Yeah never forget who the alpha is motherfucker.” Then, because you were so drunk, you accidentally poked yourself in the eyes, pretty hard, while doing that two finger ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at the dog. Then, after you went to urinate, again, and you came out of the bathroom and tripped over the dog — who tripped you on purpose by the way, you are absolutely not the alpha of that home — and stumbled into the stool you shouted, “FUCK MOTHERFUCK AH MY FUCKING SHIN DICK SUCKING FUCKBAG TITTY COCK FUCK.” Then you passed out right there on the carpet.

Me: [sighing] Yeah I remember waking up in that spot. With that bruise.

Jesus: Feels like a solid time to remind that you missed church because of that.

Me: Okay, yeah, I’m a dick. I get it.

Jesus: Not wild about your Walgreens trip that next morning either.

Me: OKAY. GOD. Can we move on?

Jesus: Yeah, let’s get to the worst part.

Me: [under my breath] Oh fuck.

Jesus: [deadly serious] I know you’ve been strangling hobos.

Me: WHAT!?!?!

Jesus: [disappointed yet compassionate] Robert, why?

Me: I’m not strangling hobos! For fuck’s sake!

Jesus: What? [Jesus starts flipping through his notes] Oh you know what? That was a Robert Fuchs. I’m sorry. I need a new sin accountant. We’ve been trying to flip Santa’s naughty/nice guy.

Me: Man you’d think the Jewish guy would have a solid accountant…

Jesus: Alrighty I’m going to throw that onto your 2016 indiscretions.

Me: Yeah I deserve that. Is there anything else?

Jesus: I mean this mass isn’t long enough to run through them all but I’ll just say this: stop doing drugs when people offer them to you, talk to your parents more, give back to the community more, it’s not a sin but I’d personally prefer if you wrote about dicks less, stop watching porn at work even if it’s for work, and finally, go to church. Honor the Lord and shit. It’s not even hard.

Me: [sighing] Okay, okay. Happy Birthday.

Jesus: Yeah I wasn’t born today but thanks.

Me: [under my breath] You can’t win with this guy.

Jesus: Oh I’m the only way to win. Never forget that shit. Now if you’ll excuse me there’s a guy who just walked in who’s been running over cats in his neighborhood. We gotta have some real talk. Have a nice night.

Me: Well I feel appropriately guilty for the setting now. [unfolds hands, sits down]

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