JESUS SCRATCHES AN ITCH

Jesus was building a house for himself to live in. It was going to have all sorts of secret passages, and two-way-mirrors and secret rooms to torture his victims in without bothering his neighbors. The only problem was the building inspector, Vanessa. She was a hot-blonde-type, and Jesus was going to have to kill her approved all his secret stuff.

They walked together from room to room as Jesus gave reasonable and plausible answers to all of Vanessa's tough questions like, "Is that your hand on my breast?" Finally, she gave Jesus the proper permits, and he was about to smash her head in with a glass paper weight shaped like Mt. Rushmore, when he suddenly realized that all he had to do to keep her from talking, was capture her and lock her in one of his dungeons and never let her out.

All he had to do was put a blindfold on her and spin her around real fast and throw her in a room and lock the door.  He casually asked if she'd like to play a game of pin the tail on the donkey. She seemed to consider it for a moment, but politely declined. But of course, she couldn't resist the piñata.

So Jesus had Vanessa locked up in no time. Little did he know, that she was an undercover vice cop who had literally followed a trail of dead hookers right to Jesus' front door. As soon as she was in trouble, she said the code word, "Barracuda!" and the house was surrounded by cops. Jesus grabbed Vanessa and gagged her with a sock and headed into one of his secret passages. Once they were well hidden, Jesus put Vanessa down to scratch himself and she got the drop on him and took him in.

Down at the station, Jesus tickled the police captain and was beaten for a while. Then he was released when the Supreme Court made hooker-murder legal again. Justice prevails.

JESUS LOSES HIS MEMORY

             Jesus went down to Georgia with a banjo and a hobo pack. The local sheriff mistook him for a hippie and beat him with his club. And that's how Jesus got amnesia.

            He woke up in a pile of trash and started looking through his pockets for clues and bugs. He found an address for a town near Atlanta and headed off to the afore mentioned town near Atlanta.

 The address turned out to be a whore house called Big Eddie's House o' Whores. Eddie knew Jesus by the name Big Willy. He got that name in a poker game where he whipped out his measly cock and tried to use to cover a bet with Eddie. But Eddie was no fool. He insisted that Jesus throw in his balls and his prostate. Luckily, Jesus won the bet.

 Jesus asked Big Eddie, "Who am I?" "You're the fucker who took all my money!" This sudden aggression made Jesus tremble with fear and his magical voodoo powers began firing off all crazy and taking people out, left and right. Well not people actually, hookers. Big Eddie had never seen Jesus this upset, it scared him, a lot- I mean on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being scared a lot and 1 being not very scared at all, Big Eddie was a 10.

So he calmed Jesus down by tossing some plates at his head, eventually knocking Jesus unconscious. Then he took a shit and wrote a message on it in white out and slid it into Jesus' anus so that he would read it when he pooped it out later. The message said, "Eat at Phil's Diner," Jesus did, it was delicious. But he still had the problem of not knowing who he was.

So he hired a private detective. Big mistake. Dickface P.I. screwed Jesus over for $3000 and told Jesus to go to a psychic. He didn't know who he was, but he knew those fuckers were full of shit. After 10 years of frustration over his lost identity, the J man finally killed himself. Once in Heaven, Jesus remembered everything and went out for a beer. 

THE TROUBLE WITH SEMEN

Jesus was working as the night manager at the local Holiday Inn. The last manager was an older woman who fell in love with a wealthy businessman over an impromptu trip to Acapulco. Anyway, Jesus was having problems with the cleaning staff being perverts and mostly just cleaning around the semen.

"One problem is one too many, but two problem?! That's just unfathomable!" Jesus shouted at the crew. "Jon, how many times have I told you not to leave semen on the lamp?" But Jon had cleaned up enough semen for several lifetimes, and he'd had enough.

So Jon called for a general maids' strike. Then the people at the front desk decided to strike in support of the maids. Jesus decided, if this strike was ever going to end, he'd better get to the bottom of this semen thing.

He went to his office computer and googled semen. No help. Then he decided to call The Experts; a wily group of hookers from Bakersfield, CA. The hookers reminded Jesus of Charlie's Angels, except they were all Drew Barrymore (the ugly one).

Anyway, the hookers carefully tasted every sample of semen that they could find, and came to the conclusion that semen tasted better fresh. This gave Jesus his third million-dollar idea: Complimentary hookers for making sure the jizz doesn't get everywhere. And that's where the White House got the idea for the Executive Hooker Stable, Whore House One.

JESUS VS. HOLLYWOOD

Jesus had just gotten fired from his job as a stork delivering babies because he kept losing his cargo and replacing it with cheese.  And it’s not that the people didn’t appreciate the cheese, but when you’re expecting a delicious baby, delicious cheese is no comparison.

So anyway, he was filing for unemployment when he came up with a way to make millions ripping off popular movies using toys instead of actors, and actresses instead of furniture.  His movies caught on, and soon he was rich, rich as queers (those darn queers that lived up the street from him and always tried to hit on him in their Lexus).

 So now Jesus was set, but the Hollywood moguls were furious.  Producing movies was the only thing that got the moguls laid and Jesus was jeopardizing that, so they had to get revenge.  They snuck into Jesus’ apartment and booby-trapped his favorite chair, which he had had made special for him by super-gluing a fat chick to a chair.  So when Jesus came home after a hard day’s work of loitering around and sat in his chair, he discovered that his fat chick upholstery had been replaced with a skinny, hairy dude with a boner.

“YIPES!” Jesus yelled as he jumped out of his chair and ran for his shotgun.  He held the dude there at gun point, and they had a pleasant conversation about Jesus’ window treatment.  Then Jesus made him squeal on the fuckers that put him there.  Jesus turned him loose and ran at full speed towards Hollywood so he could get a hooker, and then maybe another hooker, and if there was time, he’d get revenge on the producers with a knife, or flaming dog poo, or maybe his team of high priced lawyers. 

After a few dozen hookers, Jesus set out to find those dudes he was looking for, but came across a fabulous shoe store.  He stayed there, shoe shopping, for so long that he died of hooker deprivation.  He woke up in Heaven and beat off, then went back to bed.