Fish Head Friday

And bonus Fish Story. What is THAT smell?

I remember hearing a story a long time ago about a spurned wife, Alice. Her husband, Bob, cheated on her and ended up marrying his mistress, Amber. (note to Ambers: if he cheated with YOU on his WIFE, what makes you think that now, if YOU are his WIFE, he won’t cheat on YOU?) Anyway…women who have been cheated on should be feared. Marriage is hard enough without sex, lies and videotape. And you know what they say about hell having no fury and all that? So, back to the story. Alice and Bob divorce. He marries slutty Amber and ends up getting custody of the FAMILY home he shared with Alice for 40 years. It was an ugly brutal battle, but Soros bought the bench. Who can argue?

So, months later, Alice is forced to move out and Bob and Amber move in. When the newlyweds finally come up for air after 3 minutes, Bob heads to the drugstore to get his nitroglycerin refill along with a box of tampons for Amber.

In the midst of Bob’s lust and Amber’s greed, they start to notice The Smell. It is everywhere in the house. It smells BAD. It is so bad they call in professional Stink Finders and even they cannot figure out The Smell. A few months go by and Amber demands they move out because the house is obviously defective. So, in the end, a re-negotiation of divorce terms are arranged and Alice gets full custody of the family home. They gave it to her. And Bob and Amber laugh. ‘That place is SO her problem now.’

With Bob and Amber safely in the next state (pole dancers can work anywhere and Bob’s Social Security is direct deposited and his Walgreens prescriptions for high blood pressure, statins, heart pills and Viagra can all be transferred) Alice enters the cherished home. Happily she sets up the ladder and as Journey blasts out from the speakers, she begins taking down all 50 drapery rods. She loads them, very carefully, into the back of her pickup and hauls them to the dump. She throws them into the pile specified for ‘metal’ and smiles as she looks at her work. And staring back at her with lifeless eyes from the inside of the curtain rods are loads of dead fish eyeballs attached to dead fish corpses. Shrimp corpses. Trout corpses. Pollock corpses. 75 pounds of seafood was so worth her trouble.

Haha. We laugh, but as the weekend approaches, I can’t help but wonder how much dead fish is in the curtain rods of The Black House. So, this will be a weekend of prayer.

¹² For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Ephesians 6:12

So, even if we feel helpless, we are not. Because we can pray. THEY hate that.

Memes For Thee:

And…of course I have to add this one. Because, just what in the heck is going on? Doesn’t even look like the same guy. Looks like all the updates replace blue eyes with black glaring ones made in the lake of fire. Just sayin’.