Something he could really use: A book full of web links to articles about “how to start your own religion”.
Perhaps I should have just given him a Post-It note that said “Dude, just use ChatGPT”!
Baby Oil
Private Investigator results. Divine conception sounds sus.
I brought a nicely written certificate saying their Christmas present was that a donation had been made in their name. None of them could read. It didn’t go over well.
A mother***king MERRY CHRYSLER
deleted by creator
Glock w a switch
Fentanyl.
Oh, thank god it wasn’t Tylenol.
A pack of disposable diapers. They understandably looked at me weird because they hadn’t been invented yet.
Well that does explain why in the Book of Mormon, Jesus dies at 63 of microplastic related lung cancer. 63. Too young.
One of those string pull animal sound thingies where the cow goes “moo” and the lamb goes “baa” and Judas goes “he’s over there man”.
Diapers. I brought something that new parents actually need, but the story tellers thought it was boring.
The means to properly document Jesus’ existence so that we had even one shred of actual evidence that any of this stuff happened.
I didn’t shit the whole journey, then I crapped it all out into Christ’s crib. You won’t hear about it in the Bible, but the Bible carries on the spirit of the gift: it’s a bunch of shit.
Wait Wait, so without you, it would have been worse?
Sometimes, in secret, the priests share a cup.
it’s not what i brought, it’s how badly i destroyed their toilet on his first birthday party.
One of those I support single moms stripper t-shirts. For carpenter joe of course.
