It's not so bad after all.

I'm not usually one for bandwagons, but I liked this one. BB set up an experiment to encourage people to come up with something every day for a year that is a Good Thing. I've been challenged recently that I'm not a very thankful person. My glass is at best half empty and at worst smashed on the floor in a tantrum. The reality is that my cup overflows and I want to challenge myself to see that. God is good and he loves me. I always forget that because I'm too busy picking up the shards from the floor to look up and see the good stuff. I think this'll be good for me!

http://itsnotsobadafterall.blogspot.com (This entire blog has now been moved to the next post).

P.S. I apologise to punctuation pedants - I feel your pain. There are no apostrophes allowed in the web title. Just try not to look.

Is God laughing?

While laughing with a jolly friend, I was wondering if God thinks I'm funny. I wondered what his sense of humour is like, and what it's like when you're omniscient and always know the punchline. Does he laugh at farts, like me? Is his favourite sitcom 'Smack the Pony' or 'The Office'? Does he get irony and sarcasm, in the sense that it tickles him?

I concluded that Jesus must have laughed, or else he wouldn't have been such a big hit at parties. And also, most of our laughter seems to me to be a good thing. So I reckon it's part of the bit that reflects the fact we're made in his image. If it's not sinful (which of course it can be) then it must be in some way Godish, mustn't it?

So, anyway, I decided to check out what makes God giggle by looking up laugh, laughter and laughing in a concordance. I was a bit disturbed by the results...

Psalm 2:4 "The One enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them. Then he rebukes them in his wrath...."

That's quite a scary sort of laughing...

Psalm 37:13 "but the Lord laughs at the wicked, for he knows their day is coming"

Ha, ha!......Ha?

So what does he think of our laughter?

Proverbs 14:13 "Even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief"

Ecclesiastes 2:2 "'Laughter' I said, 'is foolish. And what does pleasure accomplish?'"

Ecclesiastes 7:3 "Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart."

James 4:9 "Grieve, mourn and wail. change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom."

Oh happy day! Why don't these quotes ever appear on calenders under a picture of a puppy or a sunset?!

Friendship is...

One of my favourite things to do is to use the lavatory in the company of a friend, or vice versa. It's one of those things that makes me feel like we're REALLY friends... Can you imagine my glee when a friend showed me this artist's impression of how they enjoyed this very delight in Roman times? Above, you will see a group of men enjoying a shared poo while chatting about current affairs. I was also thrilled to discover the collection of communal 'sponges on sticks' for personal cleansing. I shall be contacting my local council to see if I can get this custom resurrected in my neighbourhood.

Sick!

During a recent bank holiday excursion, my friend and I chanced upon a charming toy museum. We gayly paid our entrance fees, only to find the smiles drop from our faces when we discovered that it was an exhibition of Sick Dolls! We captured some of them on film so that you could share a little in our horror.

Above, you will be disturbed to see Hurling Barf Sick Boy. This dirty little horror scored a massive 11 out of 10 on the Sickter Scale. He actually makes me feel physically sick to look at him. He's so shiny! Hold on, I need to go and wash my hands...

Now to the right you will see Princess Sick Lips, scoring highly at 10. She's just so obnoxious and smug! Her hair is matted and she has a sick little mouth on 'er. Those pearls are obscene. I feel dirty just looking at her.

Now below you will see Zombie Dawn (6). Now who in thier right minds would give a child something as terrifying as this to play with? She is quite literally, coming to get you. See below for an artists impression of Zombie Dawn as a life sized person.

Above, meet Clammy Daniel (8.5) Ew he looks like a real little boy! But just a really clammy one! Sick! He is sick as! Imagine cuddling up to Clammy Daniel as child. I wouldn't be surprised if he left a secretion. Hold on, I need to wash my hands again....

To the left, you will see Dirty Hannah. A giant soiled baby. She was massive. It was sick. Dirty Hannah scored 9.5 on the Sickter Scale. I can't believe I got that close to her. See how I shudder. She still haunts my dreams.

This is just a small selection. If you think you can stomach it, click for more sick pics (go to 'fun stuff' and click the ugly dolls link) There you will meet: Polly Po-face (3.5) Jackie (5) Slippery Sylvia (7.5) Rab Sick Nesbitt (9) Fanny (6) Sad Jane (2) Shiny Sick Face (9.5) Sylvester the Sick (9) Queen Sicky-Rank (10) Kimrandy (2.5) Pam Sickrosia (7) Queer Courtney (7.5) Sick, Sick, Sick, Sick, Sindy (10) Rank Candy (8) Whimpering Wendy (4) Nasty Noel (7) Pauline Placenta Head (9) and Filthy-Sick Francine (10.5) SICK!!

OddBabble's Strange Dreamworld #3

Originally posted 23/03/06

So it's moving day, and I'm walking into my new flat....and there is a strange young man with a beard in there.
"Who are you?"
"Oh, sorry, Chris said you were moving in today"
As I think to myself "who the heck is Chris?" he gestures to the glass door and, sure enough, there is 'Chris', with several of his friends, laughing around a table. As I look, several other people are filing in behind me.
"Have you come to help me unpack?" I ask. They laugh as they exhibit all of the cultural characteristics of 'having a party'.
"Fine" I think, and leave them to it, walking into a room to find one of my 'guests' has sliced open a huge tube of brown acrylic paint with a knife and is...."d...don't y...ou're.....t...TREADING IT INTO MY NEW BEIGE CARPET!"
It's too late. "Fine" I think "it'll come out with some sort of solvent.....or something."
I go into my new kitchen. Great! People are unpacking boxes for me!....and...putting everything into completely illogical places where I will never find them again...I go into my study (study! If only!) Hey! There's Anna, great! Oh, but she looks a bit moody.
"You're just constantly drunk."
"What?! I'm not drunk! I just drove here!"
"I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed." She says as she walks out of the room superciliously.
I decide to lock myself into an empty room. I look out of the window. I turn around again and find that the door has been forced open by.....a massive group of pentecostals who have come to have their meeting here! What?!"Fine" I think, as I go and find my bedroom. But I hadn't realised before that all of the flats were ajoined by internal doors. Every door I open leads me to someone else's flat. Now I can't even find my own flat again! All I want to do is lie down in a quiet room......I believe this is an example of what psychologists call an 'anxiety dream'.

It's funny how you can plan something for a long time, fully expecting it to happen, but when it does, it comes as a complete shock.

I have known since January that Anna and I would be moving to separate places, but a few things happened in the last few days that have made it actually REAL, and it makes my tummy go a bit funny.

Yesterday I went to my last morning service at church in Wimbledon. I've known that that day would come, but actually, that really does mean that I don't go to that church anymore. It feels like I've left my family behind, and in a way I guess I have.

Yesterday I also started putting my belongings into boxes. That means I won't live here anymore. In some ways that delights me, because this flat is an ancient icebox and something falls off into my hands virtually everytime I switch on a light or open a door. I also got an electricity bill this morning for £774.14 and the house is STILL freezing! I won't miss that...

But I will miss Anna. We realised that from Thursday of this week, we won't live together anymore. After nine and a half years. That's a long time! That's longer than I've been able to drive. That's longer than mobile phones have been in common use. That's longer than Labour have been in government. That's longer than I have known the Lord.

I can't get my little brain around it and it's making me a little bit weepy. I'm a little bit frightened if I'm honest. I can't imagine not living with the person who first told me the gospel, first read the Bible with me, watched me struggle and fail to fit into the Christian mould, played endless games of monopoly with me instead of studying for our degrees, danced to dreadful cheesy music every Wednesday night at Uni, followed the careers of the Spice Girls and mourned with me on the day when Geri made 'that announcement', made me laugh so much I vomited, invited me into the UCCF family, sang me weird lullabies about bleeding horses (!), spontaneously danced toLatin music while our dinners got cold, moaned at me for my incurable messiness, sang tuneless duets from musicals, wearily humoured my stubborn belief that my soft toys are really my children, shared a takeaway (2 chicken kormas, pilau rice, peshwari naan and cheap white wine) and a DVD after every conference (and there have been MANY), shared a fish & chips dinner after every job or promotion, told me excitedly about sporting victories that mean nothing whatsoever to me, ridden to hospital in the middle of the night, grunted in the morning before the caffeine kicked in, seen the worst of my sin and selfishness and put up with it all the same, stuck by me while I made a mess of my life, saw me discover real joy when I picked myself up again, and reminded me when I needed to know it, that the gospel she first told me, is still true.

OK, I'm not 'a little bit weepy' anymore, I have snot all over my face and have got through half a toilet roll.