Jerry jerry

"Hey, good afternoon, glad you could make it to the Larry Jingo
show. Today we'll be laughing at obsessive crazy people - sounds like
fun doesn't it? Well, we got an Elvis impersonator because we have to,
it's the law. Then we got a schizophrenic woman who thinks she's all of
the Spice Girls. But first, we've got the Lord of Lords, King of Kings
- hope Elvis doesn't mind me saying that! Let's say hello to Jesus
Christ, the son of God."
The audience falls silent for a second, the neanderthal hoots dead in
their throats. Then, as Christ appears from the wings, without wings,
there's uproar. Some boo, a couple walk out, somebody casts he first
stone - it's actually a cigarette packet, but you get the idea. There's
not a lot of reverence.
"Hey, Jesus, Mr. Christ, how are you? Welcome to the show!"
"Hello Larry".
"So. Let's get going. You claim to be the son of God?"
"I make no claims Larry. I am what I am."
"Which is what?"
"I am the son of God."
"That's pretty remarkable if you don't mind me saying so Jesus."
"We are all of us remarkable Larry."
"Sure, but not so many of us rise from the dead - if you've ever been
at the Comedy Club on open-mic night, you'll know what I'm
saying."
Silence from Christ.
"Well Jesus, you must be 2000 years old now. You look pretty good on
it. Maybe you should do an exercise video. What's the secret?"
"There is no secret. I work out, keep myself in shape, watch what I
eat. I take iron supplements. Through the wrist." Jesus allows himself
a brief chuckle. "No, seriously Larry, when I left this earth, I
returned to live in my father's house."
"Bet he was happy about that. Wasn't it tricky when you got a hot
date?"
"I went to live in my father's house" Christ continues. "There is no
sense of time there."
"Women are like that when they get in the bathroom."
The audience boo.
"Come on, just a joke folks!"
"There is no time" Christ went on. "I was waiting for the time when my
father decided I should return to live among you. That time is
here."
"Well, Jesus, that's a helluva story. We've heard a lot about your
father, so I guess it's time we had a little surprise for you. Here's
mom. Folks, say hi to the Virgin Mary."
A figure, perhaps in her mid-50s, comes onto the stage. Almost entirely
covered by a shapeless nun's habit, it's hard to discern anything about
her, except that she's uncommonly tall, nearly six feet.
"Mary, hi! It's ok to call you Mary?"
"Better than calling me Virgin, Larry!"
"So Mary. Here's the man you call your son. Tell me a little about him.
I think we'd all like to know more."
"What can I say? He never writes, doesn't remember my birthday, doesn't
come round, even at Christmas, never calls. But he's my son, may it be
a judgement on me."
"I'm a little confused here Mary. Now, according to the books, Jesus
here was born 2000 years ago. I'm having some trouble believing that
he's who he says he is, and a little more believing you're his
mother."
"It's because I look so young isn't it? A girl has to look after
herself these days. You can't let yourself go."
"No, that's not it. To be honest, I'm having more trouble believing
you're a virgin. But let's leave that a minute. I want to hear what
Jesus has to say. Is she your mother?"
"She is no. My mother is in my father's house."
"How's that?"
"When I returned to earth, I did so in the form in which you see me
now."
"Jesus Chr&;#8230;Sorry. I mean that's kinda hard to figure. This
poor woman gave birth to an adult male? No wonder she look
wrecked."
"No woman gave birth to me. I had already been born 2000 years ago. It
would have been absurd to expect me to be born again. Look at the what
the papers would have made of it - Jesus Christ is a Born Again
Christian. If I had been born again, I would have been my own brother.
What would that have done to philosophy? "Am I my brother's keeper?"
"No, I'm my brother, let me introduce you to myself. Hello, I'm Jesus
Christ and here's me, my brother Jesus Christ". Don't you think that
would confuse the message Larry?"
"So Mary, what do you have to say to that?"
"He's always been a lying little sod, his bloody father was the same.
Said he'd see me alright if I gave birth, then not a word since."
"Mary, if we are to accept that this man truly is Jesus Christ, then
don't we have to take his word as Gospel? Have you anything that proves
otherwise?"
"Well, it was a miraculous birth alright."
"An immaculate conception?"
"Not in the back of a cab. Clean, but not immaculate, I wouldn't say
that."
"So what was miraculous about it?"
"I'll show you".
With that, Mary gets up, loosens her habit, drops it to the floor. Her
long hair falls over her shoulders, onto her tiny breasts. She's
wearing a corset that's waging a losing battle with her stomach.
Completing the sexual clich?, she's wearing stockings, suspenders, high
heels. More surprisingly for the Virgin Mary, she's wearing no
knickers. And between her legs rose a small, but undeniably erect
penis.
"So how many pre-op transsexuals do you know that have given birth to
the son of God? Proof enough Larry?"