Cracked 5 … April 3rd, 2018


Jonathots Daily Blog

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Matters That Really Upset the Easter Bunny During This Holiday Celebration

A. The Lucky Car Dealership giving away a rabbit’s foot for good luck as a promotional benefit during “Hoppy Sales Week”

 

B. Obtuse and confusing parallels drawn by ministers and church youth leaders between the Easter Bunny and the Resurrection of Christ

 

C. Peeps voted “Best Easter Candy.” Damn those chicks.

 

D. Jokes about the Easter Bunny being a “basket case”

 

E. Politically correct individuals upset with the term “colored eggs” want to change it to “hue-enhanced eggs.”

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G-Poppers … October 7th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

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Futility is the soul-gobbling bacteria that carves out the insides of human hope, leaving emptiness.

Yesterday, G-Pop took a little trip over to Bronner’s Christmas Store in Frankenmuth, Michigan. Such a festive time.

Still, it was fraught with inconvenience. Checking out at Customer Service ended up being a rather arduous task, as some mistakes were made by staff. Yet it is difficult to be fussy when Nat King Cole is singing about roasted chestnuts.

Leaving the fantasy world, lunch was procured at a Chinese restaurant. Upon departure, G-Pop discovered that the old black van refused to start. Either the battery was dead or the starter was gone. G-Pop found this distressing because the previous day he’d had repair done on some belts.

He began to feel that odd tingle of futility. Even though he knew that things always work out eventually, being left in the lurch certainly appeared to be unrighteous.

G-Pop forgot the cardinal lesson of Earth journey: No matter what I do, I will do more, so I better enjoy doing it.

Forgetting this abiding notion led to two dastardly conclusions:

1. It’s not fair

2. It’s not possible

So what was G-Pop supposed to do?

Fortunately, there are dual ways of escape from the fracture of futility:

A. If you’re being slowed down, then stop.

In other words, if for some reason you find yourself on the bad end of a deal, it does not help to double down. Go ahead and stop.

G-Pop just sat in his van for about two minutes, considering options. Fortunately for him, he was in the middle of a commercial region, and there was a car dealership across the street. So on to Step 2.

B. While you are stopped, take inventory.

What did G-Pop have?

He had two friends with him–one who was more than willing to go across the street and procure help. Apparently it was a very slow day in Frankenmuth car land, because in no time at all, there were four agents from the dealership gathered around the van, trying to figure out how to fix it.

It was determined that a starter was needed, so one was procured, and fortunately, was so easy to put on that the vehicle didn’t even need to leave the parking lot.

In less than an hour, G-Pop and friends were on their way.

Now granted–it was too expensive, and the dealership people were grinning the whole time because they were making a killing. Sometimes that’s just the price for peace of mind.

For after all, futility is the little piece of arrogance we save back for those occasions when we believe that God is not doing His job.

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Confessing … September 12th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2690)

XIX.

I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

When I was twenty-four years old, our fledgling music group was invited to Hamilton County Catholic Youth Conference to share our tunes.

The event was spear-headed by a guy named Patrick Daniels, who was the owner and proprietor of the huge, aptly named Patrick Daniels Car Dealership of Hamilton County.

Even though our rough-and-tumble style of music was not well-suited for all the Fathers and Sisters of the order, Mr. Daniels took a liking to us.

Matter of fact, he said if we ever needed assistance in any way, to give him a call.

We did. Need assistance, that is, and also, gave him a call.

I explained to Mr. Daniels that we wanted to rent a car at a very reasonable flat rate so we could do more traveling outside our little circle of influence.

He graciously agreed to do so, and we drew up a simple contract that stated that we would pay $150 a month, or whatever we could afford.

As it turned out, we never were able to afford $150. One month we paid $40, and I think on a particularly good thirty-day period, we once paid as much as $80.

Mr. Daniels didn’t seem to care.

Along the journey, we had a bizarre little accident. A cyclist ran into the driver’s front door, leaving a dent. The gentleman on the bicycle was not hurt, but the door was obviously damaged.

So we continued to drive the car with a blemished exterior, unashamed, but never informed Mr. Daniels of the damage, figuring that somewhere along the line, God, in His infinite mercy, would grant us enough money to fix the mistake.

Before that could happen, Mr. Daniels suddenly called us and told us he wanted his car back. When I asked him why, he became infuriated, talking to me about our lack of payment and also explaining that he was no longer attending church and wasn’t interested in continuing his benevolence.

So I brought the car back and walked out to show him the damage. Upon seeing it, he became enraged, asked me why we hadn’t shared about the situation sooner, and then told me that he had decided to charge us ten cents a mile for every jot and tittle we had placed on his odometer.

We couldn’t afford to pay the monthly lease, so obviously, we could not cough up the money for the door or the added charges for mileage.

I should have told him this. I didn’t.

I led him to believe that I was going to go back home and raise the money from family members.

Perhaps a little part of me thought I might do that–a teensy-weensy portion.

I really just wanted to get out of there, escaping the fiasco.

I never contacted him again.

I heard from a friend that he was criticizing us for being phonies. I figured it would blow over.

It did.

I suppose I could tell you that he went back on the deal and therefore he was partially at fault–but that would just be another lie piled onto the transgression.

Mr. Daniels needed us to be trustworthy at a time in his life when he was doubting everything he once held dear.

We ended up giving him more reasons…to shake his fist at the heavens.

 

Confessing Monte Carlo

 

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