Tough Titties

The prophet wants to know how it is that grown men can still find so much amusement in hiding dirty words in a paragraph of text. If you don't know what I'm talking about, take another look at yesterday's post. She caught me feeling a little ashamed of myself and I decided to try something a little more advanced. As the Christmas season is just about to suck the ever-living joy out of us, I thought I'd incorporate some of my feelings about the events that led up to our present state into an Acrostic variation called an abeccedarian hymn. It goes like this. A one ana two:

An ancient anniversary, awesome annunciation and assembly
Bearing beatitude beyond beneficent belief before bestial bestriding
Celestial certitude calcifying cruel calumnies
Deific divination decries defiling degeneration
Effulgent evangelical emanations entrance esteemed excellencies
Future forbearance facilitating filial faith
Galilean gentiles gratuitously goading
Hallelujahs hallow hegemonic hierarchies
Idealism inciting ignominious individuals into illusory illumination
Judging Judaism, Judas, juxtaposing Joseph, John, Jesus
Knowing kindness kindles kindly kingdoms
Learning leitmotif lessons

...and then I quit. Three things happened all at once. I broke the spine of my dictionary, I realized what a pompous ass I can be and I completely short circuited my brain trying to keep up with the plot line. On top of that I plan on telling the Prophet that I like boobs and I thought it was funny. There's nothing wrong with that. I know you'd like to see men, in general, get over the fascination with scratching, burping and fart jokes, and some day I'm sure we will. I just hope we don't turn into somebody who spends three hours trying to write crap like this. Wait, that didn't come out right.