11:11 a.m. - 2004-07-02
The Promised Land
I can maybe understand why the top Google searches that lead people to my diary website are "penis inside child's anus", "picture of dog vagina", "semen recipe", and "little child penis"........
But, today, according to my hi-tech Stats page, one of the Google searches that led somebody to my diary was "raspberry custard"....
"Raspberry custard"?!?
It wasn't even "raspberry-flavored semen custard" or "raspberry custard smeared all over a little child's ball-sac" or any of the searches that you'd expect to lead to my diary...
Just "raspberry custard".....
How could such an innocent search lead somebody to my diary? When did I ever talk about raspberries or custard in my previous entries?
It was probably a soccer mom searching for a recipe for her son's Junior Soccer League team.
I hope she liked my diary.
Poor lady.
My diary isn't locked for the month of July, by the way, if you hadn't noticed. Previously I had said that I was going to lock it for everybody except those who sent me a copy of their Fahrenheit 9/11 ticket stub. The reward would be that they would have exclusive access to 31 all-new diary entries for the month of July. I cancelled that plan.
I'm too lazy to do that bullshit.
I average one entry a week, if you haven't noticed.
Plus, I'm sick.....Plus, I'm going out of town for the three-day weekend.
The 4th of July weekend, I mean.
I'm going camping in Utah. I am going to Zion National Park with my girlfriend.
While I'm there in Utah, I'm hoping to be able to visit Elizabeth Smart's house and ask for her hand in marriage.
Actually, I won't ask. I'll just tell her that she's my new wife and she must leave her family and come with me now. Nothing she can do about it.
She won't mind. She's submissive like that.
Elizabeth Smart is willing to be ANYBODY'S new wife!
I'll marry my girlfriend too, while I'm at it. Anything goes in Utah.
I am sick, did I mention that?
Physically ill, I mean.
Flu, or cold, or pneumonia perhaps.
Bloody mucus is flowing out of my nose like shit off a duck's back, or however the saying goes.
While I'm in the Promised Land, by the way, I'm worried that I will have a hard time getting my hands on some sweet, sweet Jack Daniel's whiskey.
The Promised Land is what I call Utah. I call it that, because when Jesus comes back from the dead to kill everybody, the only people who will be safe will be the Mormons in Utah. They are home free.
That's what I've heard anyways.
But they don't like alcohol much. Most stores there don't even sell that junk.
I'll smuggle some over there from Vegas though.
No problem!
I know you are probably a little worried about me hiking on high Utah mountain paths at the edge of steep, rocky cliffs while having the flu.
"Are you sure it's wise to push your body to the limits while you're sick, by hiking on 15-mile-long paths up the edge of tall mountains? Will your body be able to handle it? If you have pneumonia, you could have trouble breathing the crisp mountain air in those high altitudes. What if you faint?"
It's true....If I have pneumonia, which I may very well have, then my breathing capabilities are probably only at 60%. My lungs are probably full of phlegm. Fainting in those high altitudes is a risk, I admit.
But that's the least of my worries....
I'm more worried about how accurate my rock-climbing skills will be with a whiskey-clouded mind and a stomach full of Jack Daniel's. I hope I get drunk to the point of vomiting, while I'm high atop a mountain peak.
I guarantee I will vomit off the edge of the mountain and then race to the bottom of the mountain as quick as I can to see if I hit anybody.
I could frighten half of Utah by doing that.
"There's vomit falling from the sky!!! Our lord Jesus Christ must be drunk!! Hide in the nearest temple! Armageddon is neareth!!"
I'm assuming Utah people say stuff like "neareth"....
It seems like something they'd do.
The only thing I'm sad about is that I don't have a fake beard and robe, otherwise, I'd go to Zion National Park dressed like Jesus Christ. My goal would be to convince the other campers that I have come down from Heaven to camp for a few days, before striking them all down with my vengeance and fury.
"Live it up now, fellow campers, because come Monday, I'm going to unleash Armageddon upon all of you. I just want to kick back, drink whiskey, and roast marshmallows for a couple days before I strike you all down."
When Monday morning comes, and their worst fears are about to be realized, they will all wake up to discover that I'm gone.
Headed back to Vegas.
Their lives would be spared, but the stories they'd all have to tell!
There are two things I'm happy about though:
The first thing I'm happy about is that if the REAL Jesus does decide to come riding out of the sky on a white horse and unleash Hell-fury upon the land on the 4th of July, I'll be safe and sound in the Promised Land, pretending I'm a Mormon with my two wives and a bottle of Jack.
The second thing is that in the future, thanks to this entry, if anybody does a Google search for "raspberry custard smeared all over a little child's ball-sac".......My diary will be right there for them at the top of the list.
My diary will be their Promised Land.
And in that way....I really am like Jesus.
