Jesus would make Billy Mays give my money back

Wanna know what really grinds my gears? I’ll tell you in this possibly award-winning article!

You know, when you get to know something, you take time to understand it and you take time to really feel it. Whatever this thing is, you end up really developing a respect for this new-found something.

Fast forward to the time when you find out that what you respect and what you have been told might just be a sham. You feel betrayed and possibly feel lied to by the only thing you thought still had any morals left in the world. Yes, I’m talking about Santa and the OxiClean guy.

This goes out to you, Mr. Itreallyworksoryourmoneyback!

I thought and the rest of America and I could trust you! I mean, I thought we had a relationship in which you, being on late-night TV, after the bigger penis pill guy, meant I could trust you. But I slowly found out that you were just like the Girls Gone Wild retard! GGW isn’t porn where you see stuff, but more like a soft-core porn where you know you’re not getting your money’s worth.

It hurts that I can’t trust the TV sales people! I mean, what type of world do we live in where we can’t trust people on TV? I tell you, it would be like a episode from The Twilight Zone.

Thank God for journalism! The only thing keeping it real. Well, with exception of Fox News, and opportunists who would print nonsense for the sole purpose of gaining readers.

Losing faith in mankind made me realize that I might have been lied to for the sole purpose of not making me go to hell. Maybe my parents telling me Santa was real, and if I touched my naughty spot it would fall off, was all to keep me from becoming a Charles Manson-like character.

But it got me thinking. At the end of the day, my penis does not fall off if I touch it on occasion. So my parents lied to me! Does that mean God isn’t real? The people that represent truth and justice told me never to play with my G.I. Joe because of the Catholic Church. They lied to me for the well-being of the Catholic Church (which, by the way, I am no longer associated with).

My parent’s still claim, to this day, that it’s only a matter of time before one day, out of the blue, I start manning my battleship and it sinks into the ocean blue.

I understand why they told me not to touch my Optimus Prime as a kid. It would be awkward if we went to go visit grandma, and I had my hand down my pants, but it’s still a lie that blurs my respect for my parents. It makes me start thinking that maybe pot is good for me and isn’t addictive, and maybe it will get me laid.

Don’t get me wrong, I lie almost every day. But when men of God tell me I will go to hell for supporting homosexuals and for masturbating, they are lying. And all I have to say to them is this: You’re idiots!

If you want to raise your children to be sane and good people, don’t lie to them, and then expect them not to lie. Because you, as parents and leaders of grand organizations, have to be the role models and do as you preach. Don’t be Bush. Don’t be Fox News. Be real!

With that said, why don’t we break out the Jergen’s and wax our boards, or basketball hoops in some cases. I promise they won’t fall off... well, not unless you tug the heck out of them.