Just having a bit of a cruddy day, if the truth be told. Had a service go completely haywire. Well, maybe not completely, just not to plan. So, in the spare time I had I thought I would pop along to Woollies and shop for the family dinner. As I put the bay leaves in my basket (I'm going exotic tonight), my phone rang. The service was reinstated and I had to get back to work. I replaced my phone thinking something along the lines of it all being the biggest cock-up since King Kong cracked an erection, when I turned around and saw the fearsome countenance of the most horrid woman in town. I ducked away before she could breathe on me, and singe my eyebrows and hair. Will my day get worse? I consoled myself with the thought it could not. Thus far, it hasn't. Fingers and toes are crossed, as is my hair: it's braided today. Just in case anyone gives a shit how I wore my hair today.
There are two things I'm wondering about today:
1. Why some people or entities who purport to be Christian really aren't. I've just read an article about Foundation Christian College. The father of one of the students has now enrolled her in the local public school - making her a former student, I guess - because he was apparently told in a meeting that had the board (or whoever the fogies are) been aware he is gay, the daughter would not have been allowed in the school. Apparently this school does 'not promote gay'. However, the promotion of bigotry and homophobia fall well within the parameters of what's acceptable. Poor kid was told she could mention her dad, but not the status of his relationship or his sexuality. Rather than deal with the spectre of the kid being asked to leave over her father's sexuality, in the event it became widely known, the father has chosen to remove the daughter and enrol her in a public school. Probably a good idea in the long run, but I hate the poor kid had to have this upheaval and leave her friends. I wonder if the board who run that school ever stop to think how Jesus would have reacted to the situation, given they call themselves Christian. I'm thinking he might have not worried about the dad's sexuality, and would have just said something like, 'Live and let live.'
2. In order to make a country song, must one hold one's nose and then whine, mewl, and bleat piteous, poor-me lyrics. Or else hold one's nose and twang a narrative on some boring life story nobody gives a stuff around. Well, that's what they all sound like to me. I heard one on the radio this morning, and it was almost a Paint-By-Numbers country song - nasal delivery and a shit-boring story.
'Tis all for now.
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