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  WEEK IN CRAIG: JESUS CHRIST IS IN THE HEEZY, FOR SHEEZY.  
  Amy Blair    
   
 

A few weeks ago, one of my friends got free tickets to the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular and offered me the opportunity to be her date. Being excessively immature and thus unnaturally amused by things like giant dancing teddy bears and ballerinas and ladies in frighteningly tiny Santa outfits doing the can-can, I jumped on the opportunity to live it up with the reindeer and enjoy the free show.

What I didn't know was that the second half of the Spectacular tells the story of the MIRACLE that was the birth of Jesus … complete with live camels, sheep, and Rockettes suddenly transformed from dancing snow bunnies into the peasant women of old school Bethlehem. This was disturbing, to say the least, and I am still finding myself haunted by the god-like intonation of the narrator booming out that unto us a Christ child had been born … as though the camels pooping on the stage weren't frightening enough.

I'm sorry, Christmas Spectacular producers -- but you've got to warn us if you're going to get all Jesusified on people. I simply wasn't prepared. And that's not right. If I had wanted salvation, I would have just gone to church.

Same thing goes for all you craigslist freaks. In case you were confused, craigslist is for finding roommates, furniture, and hookers … not for crazy bible shit. So please, do us all a favor and leave the god stuff to those Jehovah's Witnesses who try to give us pamphlets every morning when we get off the subway.

(Oh, and before I get all Jesus-freaky on craigslist this week, a quick shout-out to all my Jews in the hiz-ouse. Happy Hiz-anukkah.)

Now onward to the Jesus shit.

BUXOM WOMEN_ Time Spent w/ One Of The 3 WISE MEN Sound Hot?

Hi. I'm Balthasar & I haileth from Ethiopia.....but you can call me Phil. :)

You have NO idea how far I have come to findeth ye here! Across the sands of the desert, following the North Star to my final destination....the NY Public Library on 42nd. (my internet is down again back home...damn Msn!)

Anyway, I bringeth ye many gifts from my land- frankincense, myrrh & me! I am cute, funny as hell & I can make a mean Corn Flakes! Sorry. I'm not much of a cook. I can't even light the oven. So if you fit the title up there whether you happen to be chubby or slender, any ol' color, *AND* have a sense of humor (that's a must- no one too serious), then droppeth me a line! Good-natured is a MAJOR plus! :)

Let's talk under the moon....right off 6th Ave. I'll tell you all about my trying travels & about the time baby Jesus kept me up til 3.

Hap-hap-happy holidays! Shop til you drop! Ha! Too legit!

-Phil

Phil, Phil, Phil. I have no idea what was going through your simple little mind when you decided to go to the library and type up this little personal ad, but, for your sake, I can only hope that you ate a heaping handful of magic mushrooms before you got there.

Because, really, there's no excuse beyond severe drug-induced hallucinations for a grown man to take on the persona of one of the Wise Men in order to find a woman. More importantly, there's no excuse beyond severe drug-induced hallucinations for a grown man to write the sentence "Shop til you drop! Ha! Too legit!"

Please Hammer, don't hurt us!

Jesus died for His craigslist date.

The advent of the holiday season puts me in mind of this little-known fact.
God so loved the world that He gave his Only Begotten Son so that we could date on CL (which, as you know, originally stood for Christ's Love).
As is told in the Gospel According to Craig, Jesus, quesitoning his chastity, wrote an epistle to Ye Faire Craigsliste Advortisor. She returned His epistle insisting on His Pic which He dutifully sent. The Advortisor attracted by the golden glow of His Divine Countenance set up a brief meeting to see if she and Jesus would Click.
Since she wouldst only meet her prospects for brief drinks, lest they be beastly, , the Advortisor met Jesus at his work, while He tended sheep. He bade her sit and Miraculously turned to cups of water into wine. But the Advortisor continued to question Jesus. "What kind of salary does a shepherd make?" "Why are your parents living in a manger? Don't You give them money?" "Lookit those sandals. Don't you have anything nicer to wear in case we get invited to a club."
She nailed Jesus with each probing questions. Jesus now feeling the pain of the Craigslist dater was thoroughly crucified.
Together we have the power to make sure Jesus didn't die in vain.
If you're between the ages of 32 and 48, and this story spoke to you, I very much want to hear from you. And honor the Eleventh Commandment: "Thou shalt attach a Pic." After all, if Jesus could do it, so can you.

What's creepier than some dude thinking he's Balthasar The Wise Man, trying to get some booty? How about a different dude pretending to be Jesus on the same pathetic I'll-Try-ANYTHING quest for sex.

She nailed Jesus with each probing question? Together we have the power to make sure Jesus didn't die in vain? After all, Jesus attached a pic?

Sweetheart, you went on a bad date and you didn't get laid. You're not the fucking messiah. Now shut up.

Ghost Story

my v werd: halos
okay weird but arent all of these.
have been leaving in greenpoint Brooklyn for a bit and in my last place i wud tell my ex that i had a feeling like someone was looking thru the window or hanging out across the street on the roof of an abandoned building. we made this whole story about whatever it was just for jokes...
2 years later ,last week.
i was sitting on the couch and decided to touch myself (am female and this story is true) as i laid there i felt an overwhelming feeling that someone was looking at me.? weird no one in the house and no neighbors across my window; just open backyards and im on the last floor. i think , whatever. george cloonie ohh. then as im into it the window starts to rattle i look up its stops im playing w/ ,myself the same again. i stop it stops.i hear kinda this screetching noise (like metal being rubbed together; far but close sounding) im freaked and both of cats are starring at the window where i thought something was looking in! really intent, they followed whatever it was from window to window. im freaked now, pull up my pants and walk to the next room (also with a window and a fireescape) the whole time feeling like somenthing is watching me. i hear a clink on the damn escape and when i went to evryroom with a window that window or sill next to it made a noise.
im like holy shit WTF now!?! being Christian i make the sign of the cross furiously and say, the Lord is with me and nothing will hurt me , Jesus Christ is in this house!! still making the sign of the cross. :|
after that i sat on the couch and heard whatevr it was , like footsteps of a man run from the edge of the roof where my aprtmnt is to the other side where the street is and off the roof.

OK. Let me get this straight. You are sitting in your room masturbating with your two cats when you hear a noise outside. You think to yourself that maybe it's George Clooney. Righto. Instead of just closing the curtains you just keep doing what you're doing until you are overcome with paranoia, so you hike your drawers back up and wander from window to window. You hear a "clink" on the fire escape so you decide to cross yourself furiously and say "the Lord is with me and nothing will hurt me, Jesus Christ is in this house!!"

I'm not going to sit here and debate whether ghosts exist or not … so let's all just play along and suspend our disbelief for a minute. All I know is that if I died tomorrow and came back as a ghost due to some sort of unresolved issue on earth, nothing would make me happier than using my ghostly powers to spy on someone masturbating and then watching them race from window to window crossing themselves like a maniac and muttering "Jesus Christ is in this house."

Honey, next time just pull down your blinds and lock the cats in the kitchen when you rub one out.

Ha! Too legit!

 

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Amy Blair, winner of The Village Voice's "best website's summary of another website" award, is eager to be called horrible names on Craig's List. Bring it.