Bloggin’ J.C. (3)

So I was heading for Jerusalem one Sunday. That was a big ville at the time, the biggest, and I reckoned I could do some heavy influencing, and get a lot more followers. I sent a couple of my crew ahead to get a donkey for me to ride in on. Let’s face it, a big warhorse or a chariot would have got me a bad rep.

Well I gotta tell ya, they came back with the scrawniest-looking donkey I had ever seen. When I sat on the thing, I had to lift my legs up to stop my sandals scraping on the dirt. That old donkey walked so slow, it was like we were standing still. But as I went through the city gates, the crowd were pleased to see me on such a humble ride, just as I guessed they would be.

In fact they were so pleased to see me, they threw palm fronds in my path. I was worried that my sad little steed might slip on one, but he got me through. After some speechifying, I was getting kinda hungry. I told the guys to rustle up some grub, and gave a nod to the worn-out donkey, accompanied by a knowing wink.

They got the message, and we were soon eating a tasty meat stew with some nice flatbread to wipe up the gravy.

It may not have been much of nag to ride on, but that donkey sure made good eating.

Back soon. Peace and love y’all.

Bloggin’ J.C. (2)

So I was hanging out in Cana, some tiny dustbowl town in the Galilee district. I got myself invited to a wedding, along with my bad-boy crew, Disciples Unlimited. Why not? Free food, plenty to drink, and the chance of a dance with a sultry maiden. (And maybe more? Wink-wink!) I accepted, of course!

As usual, I could see a way to make some money out of this event, and to boost my street cred into the bargain. As anyone knows, the wine soons runs out at weddings, especially when it is free to guests. So I got my pal John to secrete some amphoras of good Cyrpus wine under the covered table, just in case.

It wasn’t long before Mary, my mom, suggests that I could help out with the impending wine shortage. By that time, we were down to drinking water, and that was putting a real downer on the festivities.

So I gave mom a wink, and waved my signal to John. Then I sashayed over to the table, real casual like, covering John as he exchanged the water amphoras for those containing wine. I said some holy stuff, I forget now exactly what, and the wedding guests stood around gaping, their mouths like fresh-landed fish from the nearby Sea of Galilee. I motioned to the servants to fill the clay pots with water, but as they were already almost full to the brim with that Cypriot good stuff, they only took around a cup of water in each.

Then I raised my hands, winked at my mom and John, before telling the guests to help themselves to more of the good stuff. I had changed that water into wine. ( 🙂 )

Everyone was completely drunk by the end of the festivities, and some said that the groom as too far gone to do his nuptial duties, but I cannot confirm that.

On the plus side, the bride’s dad gave me a bag of silver talents for my trouble. Of course, I had to split it with mom and John, but I only gave them twenty-five percent each.

To be honest, I wish I could have played that scam at a lot more weddings!

Peace and love.

Back soon, my fellow bloggers. Stay righteous!

Bloggin’ J.C.

Here’s a good one for ya.

Back in the day in Jerusalem, my old pal Lazarus and me came up with a cool idea. He was going to pretend to be dead, and I would bring him back to life. His sister Martha was up for the joke and agreed to play her part, so we worked out the plan over a few cups of wine.

On the day, I wept and wailed as they placed Lazzy in the tomb, wrapped in some new burial cloths. As some people helped me roll the big stone across the entrance to the tomb, they couldn’t see that inside there was enough food and drink for four days, and a fresh-killed goat.

So four days later, trying to keep a straight face, I went to the tomb with Martha and a crowd. I raised my head to the skies and pretended to plea for Lazzy to be brought back to life. Martha acted indignantly. “But smell that, he’s been there for four days. No way can he come back to life”. We both knew the goat had gone bad, and Lazzy had covered his burial cloths in the muck. So I made a big deal of them rolling the stone away, and lo and behold, that good guy Lazarus came wandering out in the filthy burial cloths, much to the amazement of everyone crowded around.

I tell ya, those Penn and Teller guys ain’t got nothing on me.

Catch you later, fellow bloggers.