April 16 (Happy Easter)

So I've got this hyperactive imagination that kicks in when I see something a little odd. You know those bumper stickers that say "Jesus is my Co-pilot"? Those are kind of odd aren't they? I mean, you kind of worry what would happen if the driver of that car were to all of a sudden take their hands off the wheel and let Jesus have a go for a while. It seems a little arrogant to think that Jesus would manifest himself in physical form to help you drive your car just so you can take your attention off the road to look for old Hardees wrappers. But then I got to thinking, what if Jesus really was driving with me, what kind of car would it be? I've decided that it would be one of those hot rod convertibles, probably white with red flame work. You know, Jesus would call me up in the afternoons, ask if I wanted to go to Arby's, and I'd say "Hell yes, I want to go to Arby's with Jesus!", and Jesus would be like "Sweet mang, I'll be waiting for chu outside," and he'd honk his horn from my driveway. Then I'd be like, "Oh you!" and I'd go outside and wave to him. I'd Say "Hey Zeus!" See, if we hung out all the time, I'd call him Zeus, since we'd be buddies and he'd get the irony of the play on the Hispanic pronunciation of “Jesus” which, if I have to explain it, isn't nearly as funny. So as I'm saying "Hey Zeus!" as I'm walking out to his car, he'd be smiling back at me, wearing some big aviator shades. Then he'd hit the hydraulics on his car. Vwww Vwww. So then I'd get in the car and we'd go cruising around town, we'd go to Arby's and order at the drive thru window, get some roast beef sandwiches and curly fries with root beer. The root beer's for me. I'm not quite sure what Jesus would drink, but it wouldn't matter, since he could transubstantiate it into whatever he wanted. And then, when we got about a block away, I'd look at my roast beef sandwich, and be like, "That's not what I ordered," and Jesus would look at me, wink and say "Oh yes it is," and I would look and say "Thanks Zeus!" Some of you are going, "I don't know about this. It seems blasphemous." and you're waiting for the lightning bolt to strike me, but come on, don't you think Jesus would be totally sweet to hang out with on the weekends. I mean, he'd probably be all generous and make a coffee table for you, and you'd be like, "Aww, Zeus, you shouldn't have." But he'd say, "You could use it my friend," and that would be the end of that debate, since he'd be right about the coffee table, since I could use one, but I didn't want to impose on him. Then we'd probably drive off to the park and play Frisbee golf, or something like that.