Bawdy Language

Introduction

During a recent archeological dig, I chanced on an ancient dumpster. At the very bottom, I found nestled between a moldy ham and cheese sandwich and a ravaged condom—three rectangular pieces of faded papyri, each no more than 10 centimeters in length.

Drawing on my vast linguistic storehouse, I quickly determined that what I had found was fourth century Coptic. Hours of laborious translation revealed the eight lines of the first in black ink to be a partial shopping list: “Pistachios, fruit, toilet paper, and milk,” it read. “Make sure not to forget the milk.” It was signed: “To Jesus, from his loving wife and truest disciple.” Hugs and kisses, Mary M. XXX.

Could it be? Jesus, a married man and to Mary Magdalene no less! My findings set off a firestorm amongst the church fathers. Traditionalists disputed the authenticity of the papyrus and its provenance. Professor Sidney Icon, holder of the Chaste chair of Divinity at the All-Christ seminary in Poughkeepsie called the find “a cheap fake intended by Bawdy to simply promote his blog.”

The Reverend Chutney Chilworth, director of New York University’s Institute for the Study of Ancient Crap, however, championed my position, declaring the papyrus to be the find of a century and its meaning unambiguous. He told the Times, “It’s hard to construct a scenario that is at all plausible in which someone fakes something like this. The world is not really crawling with crooked papyrologists.”

You may have heard of the so-called Apocryphal gospels – these were the ones church authorities later decided were not authentic enough to include in the Bible – because they contained woman-friendly reference. They include the gospel of Thomas, and the Gnostic, heretical, gospel of Philip, discovered at Nag Hammadi in Egypt in 1945 – written in Coptic in the fourth century, both of which hinted at a Jesus marriage.

Add to the list, the Gospel According to Bawdy.

The second papyrus revealed the details of the Jesus relationship with women and with his own sexuality: Everything you always wanted to know about Jesus, The Man, The Father, The Lover.

In the Beginning

Mary and Jesus first met at a Hillel House Mixer around Succoth. The other young people there were imbibing rather heavily in Manischewitz. Jesus sat alone in a corner sipping seltzer. He was the quiet one there. Mary M always had a soft spot for cool, earthy types. And he surely was one—long hair, sandals, and that certain je ne c’est quoi of one who hadn’t bathed for weeks. Unlike a lot of the other Jewish boys, he was also good with his hands. Came from a long line of carpenters, you know. They hit it off from the start.

Mary was “a good time girl,” liked to sleep around and get paid for it. No big deal—nothing more than just a trick. Here a trick, there a trick, everywhere a trick-trick. You might find it more acceptable, if you just think of a trick as a minor miracle of sorts. It will also helps you to better understand Jesus’ attraction to her.

Jesus was immediately taken with her unique talents. Her reputation preceded her. Connoisseurs raved how she gave best hand job West of Galilee. You may have heard of the last temptation. Well, Mary M was the first.

In addition to Mary, Jesus was also taken with her associates. It seems he had this thing for bad girls, and dedicated lots of hours to helping Mary M and her colleagues get organized, fighting alongside them for better working hours and better conditions. And they, in turn, helped organize on his behalf.

Going Steady

Their courtship was short but sweet. We have accounts of Jesus kissing Mary—which didn’t sit to well with Jesus’ buddies who were jealous of the attention paid her. A few, however, stood by his choice. The second-century gospel of St Mary quotes a disciple called Levi having told Peter: “If the Savior made her worthy, who are you to reject her? Certainly the Savior knows her very well. That is why he loved her more than us.” Hey, a guy’s gotta do , what a guy’s gotta do.

As to accusations of having fornicated with Mary M, Jesus initially denied them vigorously “I did not have sex with that woman!” he proclaimed indignantly. He did, after all, have a public image to uphold. Thanks to his legal team, he also had a great definition of “sex.”

Eventually though, push came to shove, and Jesus succumbed to Mary M’s blandishments. It wasn’t easy however. Jesus was, shall we say, somewhat “confused” about what was happening. If the truth be known, Jesus was not totally at home with his sexuality. That’s perfectly understandable, given his parentage. Everything he knew about sex he had picked up from his foster father, Joseph. And that, alas, wasn’t much.

When Jesus pressed Joseph for the details of his own birth, the best he could get was a mumbled and somewhat cryptic “Heaven only knows.”

Though he and Mary M finally succeeded at carnal relations, he was pretty clumsy at it and over time grew frustrated holding himself to blame as when he spilled his seed on the ground, taking himself to task afterwards and screaming to the heavens, “What should Jesus do?” Mary could only wonder would he ever?

Settling into Marriage

Sex be hanged, they joined in holy matrimony; for what good reason? God only knows.

And so, like all normal couples, they settled into the routine of a day to day relationship. He took out the garbage; drove the kids to soccer practice. And like all couples, they argued over small things. He squeezed the toothpaste out the wrong (insisting all the time, he had the capabilities to return it to the tube), and pulled the blanket away from her at night.

He shopped for her and the kids, but had this thing about bread, always bringing home enough to feed the entire village. He loved her cooking, especially her meatloaf. But of all the meals, it was breakfast he loved most.

Certain of his habits particularly riled her. How was it she wondered that he could raise others from the dead, but could never lower the toilet seat. He, in turn, was annoyed when she took her work home with her.

As with most married couples, over time, sex became a mundane and infrequently practiced procedure. They had sex on the Sabbath and every Passover (That night being different than all others), after which she said, “Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Passover however came only once a year. Jesus, regretably, had other fish to fry.

As a good family man and father, Jesus loved children—not only his own but his neighbors as well. He frequently said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them.” Many considered it rather strange that a thirty-something long-haired dude had such a thing about kids. But that’s Jesus for you. Whatta guy!

It was on this rock, he would build his church. And it would be this same love of children which would help establish a long and cherished history of pederasty within the Catholic Church.

The Marital Chasm

The seventh year of their marriage, Jesus developed a severe itch, began spending less and less time at home, and going out evenings with the guys. He headed up a rock group called the “Disciples,” surrounded by fawning devotees and dogged by groupies attracted to his mystique.

Mary M meanwhile sat at alone with the kids at home, lonely and despairing, forced to take in work at home to support the family—left desolate and wondering would Jesus ever return to her and the kids.

And that, dear reader is where the second papyrus leaves off—the fate of their marriage hanging in the balance. It is left to our imagination to consider the outcome.

PS
Oh yes, as Jesus rose again, so did Mary M in what some called a total makeover.

1. He causeth testosterone to rain down from the heavens

2. He maketh foot fetishes au rigeur

3. He causeth an undescended testicle to ascend back into the scrotum

Annual Celebration of that event

4. He causeth a flat-chested woman to blossom fully into a C ( for Christ) cup causing the young men of the village to hardenth

5.He raiseth Lazarus’ penis from the dead

6. He restoreth the sight of young men blinded from masturbation and as an added bonus, returned the motion to their wrists.

7. He melteth a frigid woman and then walketh upon her still waters, rescuing her husband from her unbridled passion

8. He maketh the limp handshake fashionable in the Gay community

9. He createth the Second Coming

10.He causeth women everywhere to call upon him at special moments

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Diary of a Pizza Virgin

AKA Fifty Shades of Marinara

I was only fifteen at the time, a mere waif, innocent and unfamiliar with the ways of the culinary world. My world view was circumscribed by Chicken nuggets, big Macs, Double downs, and Twinkies. What did I know? I had just traded in my bubble gum and training bra when Jimmy Bob and pizza came into my life. I was totally unprepared for it. And nothing has been the same ever since.

I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a warm summer night. Jimmy and I had just come back from the senior hop. He suggested we check out the scenery at the football field. I said, “Why not?” Before I knew it I had fallen under his hypnotic gaze. There I lay, stretched out in his arms under the bleachers beneath the star-filled sky and the warm gaze of a full moon.

Slowly ever so tenuously, I reached out for Jimmy Bob’s hand. He said, “Close your eyes.” Before I knew it I felt something warm in my palm. I clenched it tight. It was a sensation which I was unfamiliar with—warm and squishy. Its aroma made me dizzy, carrying me to heights I had never known before… Canadian bacon and pineapple!

I hesitated for a moment. “Go ahead,” Billy Bob urged. “Take it in your mouth; curl your tongue gently about it; let your teeth sink into it ever so gently.” I took a cautious but resolute gobble, and then in one fell swoop quickly devoured it. But I couldn’t stop with just one. I reached into the box and took out another… and yet another. The roof of my mouth burned with passion. There was no stopping me. I was like an animal possessed. Such ecstasy! Such joy!

Afterwards, the empty cardboard box lay on the ground in tatters—ravaged. I don’t remember much more about that evening, only Mama commenting about the lateness of the hour …and the tiny red stain on my skirt.

The smallpox epidemic of the 16th-17th century resulted in considerable fallout in the most exotic places, claiming pubic hair among its many victims. Thoroughly embarrassed by their baldness, women fashioned artificial hairpieces known as merkins, a term which had also long been a long-standing name for the female genitalia (you know, the old vee-jay-jay, hoo-hah etc.).

Merkin later made a brief appearance as the name of the President of the Unites States in the film Dr. Strangelove, as Merkin Muffley (which translates loosely as “cunt cunt.”) A curious turnabout, since Presidents have traditionally been seen as pricks rather than cunts. Interesting too that a cunt should be the only voice of restraint and moderation during a time when the world was perched at the brink of nuclear destruction.

Currently, the only epidemic raging appears to be one of consumerism and general madness. And for m’lady who has everything including a fine bikini wax, the genius of American marketing, having successfully removed her hair, now offers it back to her to at a special price. And you know what you she can do with it.

Enjoy this article? Don’t stop now. There’s lots more awaiting you. Run, don’t walk to www.bawdylanguage.com.

FLASH!

While in England catching up on old friends—most of who have long since shucked off this mortal coil —I was in close contact with Kate Middleton’s OBGYN. He shared with me ultra-sound images of the Royal Fetus who, in turn, was kind enough to grant me a confidential interview which I am now privileged to share with you and the world.

Self-Portrait

DCB: Good morning your – ahem—I’m not exactly sure how I should address you

RF: Your Royal Fetus would be fine.

DCB: Is that fetus or foetus?

RF: How the bloody ‘ell should I know. It’s not like I have access to the Oxford English Dictionary down here.

DCB: Be that as it may. How are you doing, your royal whatever-you- hope- to -be?

RF: A bit cold and clammy and somewhat hemmed in down here, but otherwise jolly well. Don’t get out very much you know.

DCB: Are you excited to be of royal heritage?

RF: Yes, I was just chatting with a stray sperm the other day and he noted how one sharp turn and va-voom you end up in the gut of a scullery maid. As fate would have it, however, it looks like I have a pretty good life cut out for me.

DCB: The media is going just gag-ga over you. How does it feel to be the subject of so much speculation?

RF: As a sentient being, it’s pretty cool to have done nothing and already be a celebrity, but from what I understand that’s true about most other celebrities as well.

DCB: What gives with your Mom being rushed to the hospital for her hpermesis gravidarum?

RF: Not to worry. Members of the royal house get to do that in Latin which cushions the blow nicely. While the great unwashed herd of humanity suffers with that suck-ass morning sickness causing them to barf, upchuck, spew their guts up, puke, wuff their cookies, do a technicolor yawn, and produce some pavement pizza.

DCB: Are you looking forward to your coming out?

RF: That’s a truly dumb-ass question. What the fuck do you think?

DCB: Any plans for your first days?

RF: Disneyland, The Colbert Report, and lunch with Hillary Clinton. If the truth be known, what I most look forward to is supping at the royal breasts. Let’s drink to that.

DCB: That I will. Thank you very much Your Royal Foetus with an “o.”
RF: It’s my pleasure. See you in the tabloids.

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