Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Friday, February 10, 2012

Remind you of anything?

I saw this awhile back and couldn't resist sharing...

Thursday, February 25, 2010

WARNING: Contagious Peace

Be on the lookout for symptoms of inner peace. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to inner peace and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.

Some signs and symptoms of inner peace:

A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.
An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
A loss of interest in judging other people.
A loss of interest in judging self.
A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
A loss of interest in conflict.
A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom.)
Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
Frequent attacks of smiling.
An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.
An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.


If you have some or all of the above symptoms, please be advised that your condition of inner peace may be so far advanced as to not be curable. If you are exposed to anyone exhibiting any of these symptoms, remain exposed only at your own risk.

--Saksia Davis

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Friday, March 27, 2009

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Palin Praises Finland

By the funny Palin (the Brit).

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Numa Numa

The kids go back to school tomorrow. Pardon me while I celebrate a little.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Finger Pointing

When you point your finger at someone, three fingers are pointing back at you.


Laestadian version:

When you point one finger at yourself, three fingers are pointing at someone else.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

No More Christians!

I ran across something many of you might find interesting.

There is more at Metafilter.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Laestadian Humor

I'm a fan of Prairie Home Companion, as every self-respecting former Laestadian otter be. (You have only so many radio hours left, use them wisely). Last weekend was the annual joke show, which inspired me to host a little levity here on extoots. Share your favorites, straight up or with a twist.


A Laestadian dies and goes to heaven. Of course, St. Peter meets him at the pearly gates.
St. Peter says, "Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in."
"Okay," the Laestadian says, "I married the only woman I ever kissed and we had 13 children and 60 grandchildren, all still in the church."
"That's wonderful," says St. Peter, "that's worth three points!"
"Three points?" he says. "Well, I went to June meetings every year, repented every Sunday, never drank a drop of whiskey and never watched TV."
"Terrific!" says St. Peter, "that's certainly worth a point."
"One point? Golly. How about this: I never turned on the radio in my car, even when I was alone, and have never used the internets."
"Fantastic, that's good for two points," he says.
"TWO POINTS!!" the man cries, "At this rate the only way I get into heaven is by the grace of God!"
"Come on in!"


A guy dies and goes to St. Peter, who takes him on a tour of hell. He sees cheap hotels, chain restaurants, strip malls, and smog. Not so bad, he thinks. Then off in the distance he sees a lake of fire with souls writhing in pain and torment.

What's that? he asks St. Peter.

Oh, that's for the Laestadians, he responds. They insisted on it.


There's a line at the pearly gates. St. Peter tells the first one waiting, a Catholic, to go to Room 22, but to tiptoe past Room 13. He tells the second, a Presbyterian, to go to Room 39, but to tiptoe past Room 13. He tells the third, a Baptist, to go to Room 58 but to tiptoe past Room 13. The fourth person asks St. Peter "Excuse me, but why are you telling everyone to tiptoe past Room 13?

"Oh, that's where the Laestadians are," says St. Peter. "They think they're the only ones here."


How many Laestadians does it take to screw in a light bulb?
3. One to screw it in, one to determine if it was done as taught, and one to rebuke.


Some Fundamental Truths of Religion.

1. Muslims do not recognize Jews as God's Chosen.

2. Jews do not recognize Jesus as The Messiah.

3. Protestants do not recognize The Pope as their leader.

4. Laestadians do not recognize each other in theaters, bars, pool halls or stadiums.


Laestadian preachers used to put hard candies in their mouths during the reading. When the candies melted away, they knew the preaching had gone on long enough and it was time for the movement. That was the old days. Now they use buttons.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

American Orthodoxy

Tell me you don't find this funny.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Strong Drink

Leaving Laestadianism means questioning and re-examining a lot of the "rules" that one was raised with. Sometimes this is painful, scary, and even funny. Here is the story of my first experience with "strong drink" for your entertainment.*

As I've previously mentioned, I was raised Laestadian. As I haven't mentioned, however, I was very good at following all the rules. I didn't smoke, I didn't drink, I didn't chew tobacco, I didn't swear, I didn't have sex, I didn't listen to rock and roll, I didn't play sports, and most importantly, I didn't approve of those who did. :-)

I mention this not to boast, but only to assure everyone that my credentials were in good order. Like the apostle Paul, who was the perfect Pharisee and was thus was in the perfect position to criticize the Pharisees, I was the perfect Laestadian --nobody can accuse me of justifying giving in to my fleshly desires. I wasn't just drinking and looking for theological justification to do so.

The whole thing started with the woman I was dating. She was also a Laestadian (see, I was even following that rule :-). Despite being a Laestadian, she casually mentioned one day that she didn't see anything wrong with having a margarita every once in awhile. This just floored me, shocked me, offended me in that unique deep seated way that Laestadians get offended over the sin they perceive in others. :-)

I searched the Scriptures in frenzy. Found lots of verses about drunkenness, but none forbidding drinking in moderation. Still, I was very upset. Didn't she see that as a drinker she could become an alcoholic and ruin her life, hopeless addicted to the devilish substance? I very seriously considered breaking up with her.

Then she said something to me that was truly amazing. She said, "You know, drinking or not drinking is not that important to me. It's really a minor thing, and I don't see anything wrong with it. However, if it bothers you that much, I'm fine with not drinking while we're seeing each other."

I was so moved by the grace she extended toward me on this issue that I started to re-examine my fears and concerns with alcohol.

I had a lot of questions. Was drinking really a moral issue? Or was I just ingrained with something as a kid and not wanting to let go? More insidiously, was my attitude toward drinking just a way that I could feel superior to others?

What does drunkenness mean in a biblical context? Does it mean no alcohol at all? Does it mean you can drink, just don't get drunk? Does it mean you can drink moderately and even get a buzz once in awhile as long as you are not a chronic abuser of the substance?

After much soul searching, I decided that I needed real experimental data. :-) So at age 23 I entered a liquor store for the very first time. I was very self-conscious. Did that lady behind the counter think I was some kind of drunk being here? No, she works here, she must be used to seeing customers come in all the time. Heaven forbid I run into anyone I know!!!

I had decided in advance that I was going to purchase a bottle of wine for my experiment. After all, Jesus turned water into wine. But what kind of wine would Jesus drink? After looking at the bewildering array of champagne, whites, reds, domestic, and imports, I finally decided that Jesus would be most likely to consume a five-year-old bottle of domestic red, a cabernet sauvignon priced at $20. No second rate stuff for Jesus, right? ;-) I paid with cash and left in a hurry clutching my brown paper bag and feeling like a wino. I was shocked that I was not asked to display ID.

I brought the wine back to my apartment and attempted to open it. After a major struggle with the corkscrew on my Swiss Army knife I got the bottle un-corked. I didn't have a wine glass, so I filled a ceramic coffee mug half full. I smelled the wine, and swished it around in the mug. The odor seemed evil and boozy.

I remembered reading somewhere that the ancient Romans of Jesus' day would mix water with their wine. I poured some cold water into the coffee mug, filling it. Half wine, and half water. That seemed fitting. Now the odor was not as strong, although the color was still blood red.

I was almost ready to try my wine. I felt that a good precaution would be to move to the bedroom and lay on the bed while I drank the mug of wine. That way if I was to pass out in a drunken stupor I wouldn't hit my head on the floor and get a concussion. :-) I fully expected the room to start spinning, and wasn't sure I would be able to get to the bed in time if I merely stood by the bed while drinking the wine.

Lying on the bed, propped up with a pillow, I took my first sip. I didn't like the taste at all. It tasted like smelly, bitter, sour grapes. How could anyone enjoy drinking this?!? However I was determined to experience drinking, so I forced myself to drink half a mug of the substance. Then I set the mug aside, satisfied that I had consumed enough to feel some effects.

I lay there on the bed for quite some time, waiting for the room to start spinning, or to feel woozy. All I could feel was my heart hammering in my chest.

After awhile I stood up and took a few tentative steps around the room. I didn't feel dizzy, or tipsy. I could smell a bit of wine on my breath, but otherwise the same old me. No demon rising up from the wine bottle to torment me. No irrational and insatiable desires to guzzle the rest of the bottle in an alcoholic, addictive, frenzy. Just me.

As I stood there, I began to feel very deflated. My whole life I had been taught to loathe and fear alcohol. Now that I'd tried some, the reality did not live up to the hype in the slightest. I remembered all the times I had condemned others for choosing to drink. I remembered all the times I declined party invitations and avoided social events when I suspected alcohol would be served. I thought of the love that I was willing to deny myself over the issue.

What a waste. Enough to drive a person to drink. ;-)


*Author's Note: I posted an earlier revision of this story to the XLLL Yahoo Group last February.