Showing posts with label Kolaches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kolaches. Show all posts

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Make His Paths Straight


Being a Parson, I get to preach every Sunday and I tend to stick to the Gospel, while occasionally lashing out at pansexuaists, Libs, Hippies, Marxists, Hitlerites, Illuminati pagans, big government, Bilderberger NWO shills, and assorted progleft enemies. Sometimes General Lee gets an honorable mention, along with Charles Martel and other heroes. Go figure.

Blue Tours

But there was none of that today. I just stuck to the Gospel, which featured John the Baptist, crying out in the wilderness against wickedness. Like Isaiah, preparing the "way of the Lord," making "his paths straight."



But what are the ways by which a thing makes its "path" to us? I suggested that the basic paths in question were fourfold. Viz. Senses, Affections, Intellect, Actions, and when these are blocked and twisted by evil, God can't reach us. So, we have to hear the Baptizer, and clear and straighten the paths through repentance in order for God to make his home in us.

I used lots of examples to illustrate the theme; I thought it was pretty clear. Nothing deep, or even controversial, although I did blast adultery. Then during the Peace, my MC, who's a former rodeo star (world Bronc Champion several years running), asked, "Padre, was there a point to that sermon?" 

Ride More, LSP

He's a good BS barometer and a great horseman, so I looked him in the eye and said, "I think you need to repent." I rode one of his horses the other year around some barrels only to learn afterwards that the animal was worth... a lot. It was like being on a living Ferrari.



In other exciting church news, the ladies of one of the Missions have taken to feeding Blue Armageddon kolaches at Coffee Hour. I rebuke them but they pay no attention.

Things are obviously spinning out of control.

LSP

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

I Went to West and Got a Haircut

Typical West Street Scene

Like the song says, I was born to have adventure, so I climbed in the truck and drove to West for a haircut. They have a barber there.



He was in his 70s and had a dyed blond "fauxhawk." Pretty sharp, and I told him, "I'd like a haircut please." He replied, "Like you're 16 again and all the girls like you! Gets to where they don't even notice you if they're under 35. Yessir. Medium." So out came the clippers and off went the hair, almost all of it.

Where's Your Hair Gone, Buddy?

He wasn't very happy about being in the Korean war and thought it was pretty much "bullshit." He was even less happy about having to clean planes that had been part of the hydrogen bomb tests.

"But you look alright," I said as I paid him his clipper fee.
"I am not, internally," he replied.

Next year, when my hair's long enough to cut again, I'll go back to that barber.



If you get the chance, go to any of the bakeries in West. They're outstanding.

God bless,

LSP