For sure it’s bullshit, but whose?

Of late, I have posted a few of my collected thoughts on the site israelity.com. A trend seems to have been established there, albeit an unofficial one, to write a few words regarding whatever holiday the ancient Jews came up with for the particular coordinates of the suns location in regard to the moon, which revolves around the earth, at a particular time of year. The most recent moment in the space-time continuum was Purim. Being the good citizen that I am, I obliged. First, I churned out a related entry. Second, I posted the piece, which appears here in the same form, more or less, which even received a comment within an hour of being up. Third, it was taken down by my friend who is really a good guy, but has to act as an unwilling censor, mainly to watch his own ass.

Tuesday - the one past, depending when you’re reading this - seems to have been my special, Purim-style day. Under normal circumstances, my regular life would have nothing to do with a stupid Jewish holiday, but this one seems to carry with it the prospect of getting laid – much more so than on a Yom Kippur or Holocaust themed holiday.

My Purim experience started out with my unexpected attendance at BGU’s Middle East studies departmental Purim party. Lucky for me, it turns out that Purim isn’t really “Jewish,” but just another holiday that we “borrowed” from some other religion (Purim = Zoroastrian), perverting it for their own devious plan to introduce new and stupid, yet surprisingly tasty food products to the world’s diet. It’s kind of like McDonalds, except evil.

In case you’re curious and/or skeptical, all of this is true. It was presented by a fellow grad student who is not only hot, but she also used power point. I would have double-checked her story with god, but he is either dead or was out when I phoned. Whichever the case, I didn’t leave a message on his machine.

That evening it was off to a 70’s themed house party. My costume was Hyde, from That 70’s Show, accompanied by a friend who, as the spitting image of Ashton Kutcher, dressed as Kelso, no brainer. God damned Israelis though, for the most part, everyone dressed as brides or Arabs, from the 70’s I guess. What’s the deal with that? Despite our valiant attempts to chat up the ladies, it ended up being a dry night - though we got pretty sloshed.

In summation, a good time was had by all. No girlie action, but no worries. Passover or some other holiday just like it will be upon us soon enough. Yeah!