In poor taste — Cats!
There's a t-shirt, out there in the world that I secretly covet. On it there is a cartoonish picture of Jesus throwing up the devil horns with his index finger and pinky finger and next to his picture it says "Jesus is f'ing Metal". The reason I don't own this t-shirt is because I'm terrified of the response it would bring from those who do not think Jesus is f'ing Metal and instead think I am an f'ing cuntbag for wearing a t-shirt that so obviously makes jokes at the expense of their savior. With that in mind I make it a general rule not to buy t-shirts with logos that would offend people. The last thing I want is to be walking down the street with a "Fuck Bush" t-shirt on and suddenly be the object of everyone's hateful stares (though with his approval rating these days it might be met with quietly approving nods rather than snarls). I do own one t-shirt though that says "I don't like you" on the front, but I can't deny to the world what is true to me for most so I wear it with smile.
But today I did buy a t-shirt of questionable morals. I just couldn't help myself. The t-shirt's message is funny to me for a completely different reason that it would be funny for most people who see the shirt and ya know, think it's funny.
First let me preface by saying that my two cats have, over the years, come to be known by many nicknames. I won't go into the vast amount of ridiculousness of these names for fear of embarrassing them because they too read my blog and would be mortified if I told you, for instance, why I call Tsunami "toots". But there is one name that I must disclose since it is the crux of the story and when all is said and done, it's not so bad.
Commodore, who is 7 years old this year, is lovingly called Buddha. He has this way about him, you see, when he sits there in front of you, serene and content, with his little belly poking out all full and round, and the way that he looks at you, with his cool gray-blue eyes, it's like he knows, man. He knows. So he developed the name Buddha, partly because of his Buddha belly, and partly because his eyes reflect something that is almost religious.
So today when browsing a woman's clothing store for a gift for my mother's upcoming birthday, I spotted a t-shirt that says, "Shake your Buddha". I burst out laughing, imagining taking Commodore, flipping him upside down and shaking him, as though I was checking his pockets for coins. I purchased it without question, only later realizing that an actual Buddhist may not find it as funny, them without the benefit of the inside joke which refers to my cat and not the big guy.
I decided then that I'll never be able to successfully not offend every single person I encounter (especially in New York), and I guess my standard street scowl doesn't help matters much but I'll continue to refrain from punching people in the face or calling their mothers whores. I will however continue to spit at the feet of men on the street who tell me what they want to do to my ass with their tongue. You fuckers can die.
Maybe I'll get that Jesus is f'ing Metal t-shirt, after all.
Get the t-shirt. Fuck em if they can't take a joke.
It's "Jesus is f*cking metal," not "Jesus is a bag a sh*t."
I wear my Satan t-shirts proud.
get the shirt and wear it at questionable places. make yourself happy
I have that shirt =D Actually ran into a Catholic priest wearing it, too. He just looked at me and said "That's one way to put it."
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