This blog is a very tiny window into my blogging life. A narrow, frosted window; the kind you usually see at the dentist's office to shield from view the impending torture slowly deviating toward your mouth.

Unfortunately, most of my blogging content is too personal to put up publicly, and I feel bad because 99.9% of the people I mention it to won't ever have access to it. So I made a public blog. It has resulted in the debacle that is this account - a superficial outpouring in humorously obscure, skewed ways.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Hey, God. Thanks for the mono.

Someone I know recently got mono from their partner, and it led my thoughts wandering during church this morning. I recently just got over a cold, and was very conscious of not drinking from the communion cup in order to prevent spreading the virus (although, I usually don't go for it anyway if my family/I aren't the first group of people drinking from it).

It made me wonder if most people put physical restrains on themselves to receive the coveted "blood of Christ."

I mean, how many people who have the cold, or oral herpes, or mono drank from that cup today, do you think? Did the priest/helpers wash their hands very well before handing out the crackers (ie: the host), as my Sikh friend so eloquently put it once? Soap and water washing for less than 20 seconds without vigorous friction isn't that effective. Hey, I did that GlitterBug experiment!

And this someone-I-know-that-got-mono's boyfriend (I swear, that's not code for "I'm trying to pretend it's not me") doesn't know where he got it from. If it were anyone else talking, I would say they were full of crap, but I sort of believe him. They're sort of certain that he got it at the bar somehow after drinking from a less-than-clean shot glass.

(Note: Never drink straight outta high ball glasses etc. from the bar as a general rule. Always use those straws. You never know what shit can get passed around. --> I'm wary of Jager bombs.)

Which brings us back to the communion cup, and how many people around the world may have been infected by one at a point in their life.

Unless, you know, God intervenes somehow.


brettTHEjett said...

I was seriously going to make a similar blog today. Finding out someone is using your toothbrush UNAPPRECIATION.
But it has no real spiritual infliction on it like your story.

I wonder what is more likely to get you oral herpes. The cup of GAWD or a jagerbomb.
I know which one will spiritually satisfy me!

Benito Mussolini. Srsly. said...

Don't let me hold you back, yoo.

Oh man, toothbrush manhandling. Scary thought. Considering how much can be passed via saliva. That, and the mouth is a generally dirty, dirty place (figuratively and literally).

I guess that Jagerbomb remark only really applies in some places, because some countries mix both the redbull and the Jager straight; others have to separate them in a shot glass (b/c laws and sh--tuff).

And as for oral herpes, I can think of more creative ways...

brettTHEjett said...

Well the idea of a jagerbomb is drop shot. I have to teach every bar tender in Holland what a jagerbomb is. They usually just mix it, but you tend to get ruined fast because it has 3 oz. of jager and a shot of redbull.