Put Some Gay In Your Day, Dallas!

Avocados, Asses & Anointing

I am still in prayer about Sunday’s gridiron spectacle, but here’s what the Lord has revealed to me so far.

Avocados.  I am gobsmacked that companies pay millions of dollars to place 30 seconds of commercial drivel during the football festivities.  What a waste.  Especially when one reflects on the content of these frivolous displays.  Yes, some were touching, some were filthy and some were confusing.  But I’m at a loss for why I should now buy avocados.  I already like guacamole, so Sister Molly Ringwald did nothing to change that.  Bless her heart.  She was not Pretty in Green, and I hope they held the heat of Sixteen Candles under her hind end to do this commercial.  I pray that she at least takes some avocado toast to her next Breakfast Club.  Lord!

Asses.  My fellow Christians are circling the prayer wagons over the display of filth during the halftime show.  Having missed it initially, the Lord led me to the replay video.  When I heard there was a pole dancer, I was expecting the Warsaw Ballet.  Boy, was I wrong!  A 50-year old Mexican from Puerto Rico making an ass of herself on a stripper pole then shaking said body part for all to see.  Disgusting.  (I did like the children in the Cinderella carriages, though.)  And who was that other tramp?  Sharika?  Shekinah?  Who cares?  But really, in this world where our First Lady retains such modesty, I can’t believe we had to witness this trash on national television!  Let us pray.

Anointing.  Alas, in any sports match, there is always a winner and a loser.  While the Kansas City Chiefs (whose stadium is in MISSOURI, go figure) bask in victory, the San Francisco 69ers mope back to Sodom on the Pacific in defeat.  The least I can do is embark on a mission trip to their gymnasium to offer consolation to their lead player, Brother Jimmy Garoppolo.  I am prepared to anoint him in oil to soothe his soul.  I will fall prostrate before him to give oral testimony.  I will lay hands on him to relieve his sadness.  Because that is the kind of Christian I am.  It’s a ministry.