Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate the birthday of Tennessee Ernie Ford, born in 1919. He was a singer whose songs combined a repetitive pounding beat, insipid religion-spastic themes, and stories about unskilled laborers who tried to compete with modern industrial machines because they were too stupid to learn to operate them.
And today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, the period in which our sky-zombie cult builds up to it's most idiotic climax, where we're gonna pretend that our Holy Hero has become a Sacred Zombie.
We're supposed to abstain from something for Lent. I think we oughta abstain from abstinence.
Last night's Grandiose Pancake Dinner was great, in spite of a few shortages of people to run the event. First, many members of the youth group, who usually serve as waiters, had conflicts. Second, one of our most important Crotchety Old Ladies had a death in the family so she wasn't there, and that also meant one of our preachers had some preacherly duties connected therewith, so that left only one preacher left to fry the pancakes.
Fortunately, the church secretary pitched in as a substitute pancake fryer, and several of the Crotchety Old Ladies added waitressing to their many duties.
Today nothing's gonna happen except for the Ash Wednesday service, which I shall probably abstain from.
Signs of life