When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops? Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    JOE: Mary, you’re under a lot of stress. Why don’t you take a few days off from the shop. The accounts can wait.
    MARY: I’m telling you, Joe. This Angel Gabriel said that God wanted me to have his baby.
    JOE: Did you ask for some sort of sign?
    MARY: Of course I did. He said tomorrow morning I’d start getting sick.
    JOE: But why should God want a kid?
    MARY: Well, Gabriel said that according to Luke it’s kind of an ego thing. Plus, he promised the Jews a long time ago, it’s just that he never got around to it. But now that he feels ready for children he doesn’t want to just make them out of clay or dust. He wants to get humans involved.
    JOE: Well, is he going to help toward raising the kid? God knows we can’t do it alone. I could use a bigger shop, and maybe he could throw a couple of those nice crucifix contracts my way. The Romans are nailin’ up everything that walks.
    MARY: Honey, Gabriel said not to worry. The kid would be a real winner. A public speaker and good with miracles.
    JOE: Well, that’s a relief. Anyway, I guess now that you’re officially pregnant I can start puttin’ it inside you.
    MARY: I’m sorry, honey. God wants it to be strictly a virgin birth. JOE: I don’t get it. MARY: That’s right, Joe. JOE: Don’t I get to do anything?
    MARY: He wants you to come up with a name for the kid. JOE: Jesus Christ! MARY: Joe, you’re so heavy.
    GUYS & DOLLS, PART 2
    Man, Oh Man!
    To my way of thinking, men have only one real problem: other men. That’s where all the trouble starts. A long time ago, men gave away their power. To other men: princes, kings, wizards, generals and high priests. They gave it away, because they believed what these other men told them. They bought the okeydoke. The bullshit. Men always buy the okeydoke when it comes from other men.
    Some stranger probably stood up at a campfire and said, “All right, boys, from now on, I’m the king. The sun is my father, the moon is my mother and
    they’re the ones who tell me when to throw the virgins into the volcano. Til be expecting all of you to bow deeply when you see me, and give me half your crops. Plus I’m allowed to fuck your wife. And don’t forget, if I want to I can concentrate real hard and make your head explode.’
    And the other men around the campfire nodded their heads and said to one another, “This guy makes a lot of sense.” A man will always buy the bullshit, because a man is not too bright.
    But I’m not suggesting a man doesn’t have a great deal to put up with. He does. First of all, a man has to make believe he knows what he’s doing at all times. And while he’s doing whatever it is he’s doing, he has to make believe he doesn’t need any help.
    He has to make believe he can fix anything. And if he can’t fix it now, he’ll fix it later. And if he can’t fix it later, he has a friend who can fix it, and if not, it was no good to start with, it’s not worth fixing, and besides, he knows where he can get something better, much cheaper, but they re all outta them right now, and besides, they’re closed. This is the male disease. It’s called being full of shit.
    The male disease includes the need to be in charge at all times. In charge, in control, in command. A “real man” sees himself as king of the hill, leader of the pack, captain of the ship. But all the while, in order to fit in and belong, he has to act like all the other men and do what they do, so he 11 be accepted. And get a good job and a promotion and a raise and a Porsche, and a wife. A wife who will immediately trade in the Porsche on a nice, sensible Dodge van with folding seats so they can be like all the other boring families. The poor fuck. The poor stupid fuck.
    His manliness also requires that he refuse to go to a doctor or a hospital unless it can be demonstrated to him that he has, in fact, been clinically dead for six months. aNo sense going’ to the hospital, honey, I don’t seem to be in a
    coma.”