Here’s an idea for a radio call-in show: Put Jesus’s home phone number out there. Broadcast the results.
“Uh, yeah, is this Jesus?”
“…what the… Who is this?”
“This is Joe from Cincinnati. Am I on the air?”
“Are you on the what? Joe, do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Uh, it’s about five after three here.”
“Jesus Christ, Joe, I’m tryin’ to get some sleep here. What in God’s name do you want?”
“Uh, well, you see, I’m, uh, like, thirty three, and, uh, still like, living in my parent’s basement, and…”
“Let me save you a little time Joe; you’re a loser and you’re wondering what the hell to do. Am I right? Of course I’m right; I’m Jesus *bleeeeep* Christ. Now here’s what you do: Go down to the temple and see the pharasies; tell ’em I sent you, and that you need about five sheckles so you can go BUY YOURSELF A LIFE.
“Jumpin’ Jesus on a pogo stick, Joe! Move out of your parents’ house. Get a job. Sell the Star Wars action figures. Stop trying to pick up eighteen-year-old girls on MySpace. Is it really that hard? Now get the hell off my phone; The Jesus needs his beauty rest. You *know* that water ain’t gonna turn itself to wine.”