Sweaty Jesus

Years ago someone bought me a Jesus soap on a rope for reasons best known to themselves. For reasons best known to MYself, a few years ago I cut off the rope and stuck googly eyes to it rendering the yellow soap Jesus permanently shocked. I think I even used it to menace someone remotely by telling them that Soap Jesus was watching them and very disappointed. Well, I'm sort of not Christian but I still can't bring myself to throw Soap Jesus away (just in case) so it just sits in my room by the telly. As I was passing I noticed he was all wet and was sort of 'sweating'. Is this an omen. Is this THE Omen? Should I tell some Christians that their deity is sweating as a lesson to them all? I'm guessing that if I did that some fucked up radical group would blame the gays or women priests. They'd conveniently forget about all the paedo priests or the Nuns in the Magdalen Homes who were allegedly (dunno if it's officially allegedly or if I can take it as fact at this point) evil to their charges. No, apparently God and whoever else only get angry by gays and women priests for some reason. This is one of the reasons I can't be arsed with religion.

I think I'll just ignore sweaty Soap Jesus. If he's got a message then he's going to have to think of a better way of communicating with me. For Chrissake (?) he's supposed to be Christ and I guess he's supposed to have an iota of omnipotence so should just sit down and think about his communication skills before he sweats all over a person.

Other than my really rather ridiculous rant about something or nothing I have to confess that I nearly had a proper tantrum at work today which shocked my 'mental health' work colleague pal(remember her? We are almost like twins when it comes to paranoia, hypochondria and over thinking). I'd been out all day and simply walked through the door only to hear "Ah, Sket's just come into the office, I'll put you through." A simple thing but I really rather forgot myself and had an inappropriate tantrum 'cause I didn't want to talk to anyone. There were biscuits which weren't going to eat themselves in that room and I had to TALK to someone? I did though and Mental Health Colleague (MHC) found it hysterical that I'd had a proper tantrum which included bad language and childish pouting/near stamping of feet. The only thing I was able to control was my usual trick of throwing myself to the floor and pretending to be dead when I don't want to do something.

...my friend Nigel spoiled that for me when he proved to be immune to the whole pretending to be dead thing by dragging me by one arm across the floor and making me go running with him a few years back.

After the tension had been broken by the laughter of my colleagues over my behaviour I could do little else but to show my disapproval by doing a couple of over dramatic star jumps and a lunge in the middle of the office. I would have lifted my dress over my head and showed everyone everything I've got as an act of defiance and disrespect, only I've seen myself naked and I wouldn't want to be the cause of a mass outbreak of vomiting and mental instability.

It's a shame for me. I hope I'm not going to be punished now 'cause of the Jesus stuff at the beginning. Heck, I'm always being punished. Let's see what happens tomorrow, eh?