We here at the Queso Club have been hard at work for the past few days. We decided to do something truly special for those of you who have been dedicated to us. We know it's a small crowd, but we appreciate nonetheless. Before I describe just what we are doing, here's a little bit of history for you. So far, our most popular topic is the songs that remind of us women. I received many comments about it in my day to day life, and it has many views as far as our blog stats go. We decided to compile all of those songs, add a few bonus tracks, and make the Queso Club Mixtape!
So far, we selected our bonus tracks, compiled a list of all the songs, and from there, we voted as to which songs should be on the mixtape. Because we're awesome, we're able to edit the songs to where it would be us singing them instead of the original artist! Nifty! (P.S. We realize three out of the four of us have never received proper vocal training and aren't the best singers. Trust me. I set the bar for terrible as far as singing goes.)
Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering about the bonus tracks. Whatever could they be? That's why I chose this topic. Each us is going to list our three bonus tracks, and give a little insight as to why it reminds us of them. Before I start, I would like to say all three of my songs have a level of emotional attachment to them, so keep that in mind as you read it.
3. Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen
This song can be hard to follow lyrically because good ol' Brucey has a knack for jumbling words. Nothing against that. Personally, I'm a massive fan. Essentially, the song is about him truly confessing his love for a women named Wendy and telling her that should escape town together. Man, I wish I had Bruce's courage to go to this particular woman and tell her these things. If I knew she would say yes, I would probably do it. I would probably hold off on that "everlasting kiss" for though. Truthfully, I've had an interest (some may call it a crush, but I don't like that word) on this woman for around two years. I think she even fits most of my perfect spouse description. Anyway, I would totally beat it out of town with her. I think it would be great. Also, if I had a time machine, I would take her and some friends (looking at you, Sweet N' Low and Smooth Jazz) and go see the Bruce Springsteen 1982 Born to Run tour. It would be epic.
2. Thank You by Led Zeppelin
Is it possible for us to make a post without eluding to Led Zeppelin in some way or form? It makes me wonder...
This song is both musically and lyrically a masterpiece. I can't really pick a favorite Led Zeppelin song, but this is up there. Robert Plant (singer of Zep) wrote this song about his wife, and she was obviously a worthy muse. This song reminds me of the same women that Born to Run reminds me of. Once again, it is a confession of love to me. I held interest for two years, so if the sun indeed refuse to shine, I would probably still be smitten. Also, our kids would be geniuses. They would probably excel at everything.
1. Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police
I have a love/hate relationship with thissong. When I discovered it reminded of this mysterious girl, it followed me around for a solid week. I couldn't get rid of it. It played twice in a playlist of around 100 songs in the span of thirty minutes with the playlist on shuffle. I respected the song because I enjoy The Police's music, but this song haunted me. That being said, this women recently sauntered into my life, and I don't know what to think about her. It's a mixture of attraction and annoyed I guess. Also, I'm annoyed by my attraction. So, I'm not sure what to do. That's why I included it on the mixtape.
To close things out, we voted to include twenty songs out of the thirty two compiled, so these may not be on the mixtape. It's up to you to find out. Also, just because this are my picks doesn't mean I'll be singing them on the mixtape. I wouldn't want to spoil the fun of having a code name.
Alas, once again I close out this session's topic. As I'm sure you know, the topic is for and half qualities that we want our future wives to posses. Before I get into this, I would like to mention one thing. As Smooth Jazz superbly pointed out, we are a blog filled with presumptions. And while I have thought about the idea of marriage, I have also thought about the idea of not marrying at all. Living life as a bachelor and staying in a rural cottage on Mount Fuji. That doesn't mean I will. I've just thought about it. So, shall we get started?
1. Respectful Like the others before me, I would like a wife who respects me and my decisions. I feel this is essential to marriage, and I have watched marriages crumble because neither of the spouses respected each other. I don't know what else to say about this, but you should look at Ephesians 5:22-24 for a little bit of insight on this one.
2. Caring a Compassionate This one is simple enough. I want a wife who love for others shines brightly each and every day. A wife who brings a smile to my face as well as everyone else around her. I want a wife who people love to be around and has a generous attitude that is shown in her day to day life.
3. A Good Cook I'm not sexist. I'm old fashioned. Is it wrong I want a women who can cook a delicious meal? I don't want to have to rely on my cooking skills. That would be a disaster. 4. Shares My Christian Beliefs This one is a must. I want someone who loves Jesus and truly believes he died for our sins. I want someone who will marvel at the beauty of God with me and wouldn't mind studying the bible with me. I want someone who will help me raise me my children and instill Christian beliefs into our children. Without this, tension (and probably divorce) would sure find its way into our marriage. Half. Someone who shares my interests and loves I put this as my half quality because this was is not a must. Although I would love to find a women who will jam out to Led Zeppelin with me or binge watch all of the Lord of the Rings (extended edition, of course) and Star Wars movies, I can understand if she doesn't like engaging in these activities. Surely we can find some activity to do together. Before I leave, I'm going to share some of my favorite quotes that I believe reflect what I want in a women. "Find a queen without a king, they say she plays guitar and sings..." - Led Zeppelin, "Going to California" "I knew my wife truly loved me when she gave me her biscuit from Popeyes." - A very wise and respectful man Alas, this topic is now closed. Freshly yours, Honeybagel RIP LEEEEEEROOOOOOY JEEEENKINS! A true hero.... He died too young... *sob*
Whenever this session's topic was proposed, I must admit, it caught me rather off guard. I suppose what I look for in a wife is something I am always thinking about, but at the same time, I never really think about it. It is tough. A large amount of thought was provoked by this question. And on top of the fact that the question itself is enough to send one's brain scrambling, four and a half examples? What? What is a half characteristic? It was a genius topic. One that truly stimulates the brain in many ways. I like it. Anyhow, I will now allow you all to join me on an adventure through the mysterious and treacherous landscape of my mind. Fasten your seat belts...
The First Characteristic that I look for in a potential spouse would have to be a girl that I can have fun with. I mean, I want my wife to be a lass that I can be myself around and have a good time with. A girl who always brings a smile to my face and that I can always rely on to brighten my day is one of my fantasies. I love a gal who is spontaneous and has an unquenchable thirst for adventure, a lively maiden with a gamesome spirit and who is always high-spirited, a woman who will keep me on my toes and loves to laugh, that is the kind of girl for me. If I'm going to get hitched, I am going to strive to make the relationship exciting and filled with joy, and I hope that my spouse does the same. If I were to be in a relationship and it wasn't exciting, I would consider the relationship an all-around disaster, and both myself and my partner would have failed each other. That at least, is my humble thought on the matter.
The Second Characteristic that makes a girl stand out above the rest in my mind is a girl who is competitive. A girl with a competitive spirit mesmerizes my soul. Whenever I see a girl with the fire of competition burning in her eyes, a fire burns in my heart. True story. I attribute that to the fact that I myself can be pretty competitive at times, and my wife and I would have to be the greatest tag-team duo of all time. That after all, is the end-game, correct? This one is pretty important to me. Whenever I see a girl, or anyone for that matter, who has poor sportsmanship and really doesn't care about the game. That is a turn off. It really does kill the mood, and in some cases it does infuriate me. I try to avoid those people. Some people won't understand that, but those are normally the people who aren't really competitive. I don't expect those people to understand.
The Third Characteristic that came to mind whenever I was thinking of what I look for in a potential bride and mate, was the ability to care for and be comfortable around children. Whenever I see a girl making a small child or infant smile or giggle or if a babe is talking about her mad skills babysitting, she immediately begins to glow with a most holy shine. A woman with a maternal instinct is always a plus. After all, your spouse is the woman who will bear your children (if you plan to have them). I plan on having kids, and I want a wife who will be a good mother to my children. I am not the best when it comes to kiddos, so having a wife with that as a strong suit would definitely be a good thing. That being said, I don't want a spouse who will pamper my children to the point that they become spoiled and disrespectful. Which brings me to my Fourth Characteristic...
The Fourth Characteristic, which may be one of the most vital of them all, is a respectful attitude. Respect is vital to any successful relationship, be it a friendship, a partnership, and most of all a marriage. A girl who has respect for others, be it her parents, a waiter/waitress, her peers, or anyone at all is like the sun, simply the brightest celestial being of them all, outshining all of the rest. Respect is like an oil which lubricates the gears of a clock, without it the gears would grind and cause friction resulting in the destruction of the machine. Without respect, a relationship can not survive. It, like the clock, will have such an internal conflict that it stops functioning at all. Mutual respect among a couple is extremely important, and that is why whenever I see a respectful young lady, I am quite smitten. Truth. They are hard to find, but they, like the majestic and illusive Bigfoot, do indeed exist.
Finally, The Half Characteristic that I must list is a British Accent. I say this is a half characteristic because, half of the time I think that girls with British Accents are extremely attractive, but the other half of the time I think they are simply the most annoying ever. It is an internal conflict that I struggle with from time to time.
Anyhow, that concludes my list. Thank you for tolerating my rambling.
This session's marvelous topic is "4 and 1/2 qualities that we would like our future spouses to have." I'm not particularly espoused to this topic, but I'll do my best to keep it nuptial. That is my vow to you, home slice. So, without further messing about, let' us commence! Here are the four (and 1/2) preeminent qualities of Je... I mean, of my future spouse.
But wait, watch this first:
Alright, now we may proceed.
1. Must be sweeter than honey.
2. Willing to rebut her man.
Nothing is worse than a significant other who is so intent on pleasing you that they don't hold you to a high standard. Since I desire a woman whom I can respect, love, and cherish, that woman must be willing to call me out when I am in the wrong. This is most important when it comes to matters of morality. As a Christian, the goal of every relationship is to support one another and to push the other toward a closer walk with God, living in His will and loving Him more each day. True, nagging is generally not a positive, but I need a woman whose loyalty to me is not the highest in her life. She must be loyal to the Lord and to a life of moral acuity, righteousness, and good works (Hebrews 10:24). In the end, this may not be a big deal because, once the deal has been sealed, women generally have no problem pointing out their husband's flaws. Nonetheless, I'm looking for an upright, honorable woman who will challenge me with a high standard of treatment for her and for all other people, a standard that will spur me on to a life full of service and selflessness, a life of true love and compassion. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Ain't nothing better than a woman with scruples.
3. Cooking skills.
Call me sexist if you want, but it would be really nice to have a wife who can cook well, preferably in Southern style. Mhm, poke salad. There are many qualities that may initially seem more important, but in the long run, having a honey-pookie-pie who can cook will pay off much more than most others. However, I am certainly willing to compromise on this one. After all, I actually sort of enjoy cooking myself (I do not mean preparing myself as food) and would not mind doing so for a household. Also, even if a young lady isn't a world-class chef, almost anyone can learn to get by pretty well. All ya gotta do is use plenty of SweetNLowe and have fresh HoneyBagels in the morning.
4. A balance of intellect and appreciation of silliness.
While I don't think of myself as anything like an intellectual giant, I like to question, know, read, discuss, and think critically about concepts and intellectual positions. I like to read philosophy (love of wisdom) and theology and to develop my own conceptions of reality, God, beauty, sin, etc. Furthermore, I cannot stand most television and cinema, because I am hypercritical of every idea that is presented to me, rapidly considering the biases present, the implicit implications, and how the idea stands against an orthodox Christian meta-narrative. In such a condition, I am somewhat disturbed by individuals who can amuse themselves with richly biased and profoundly, stupidly shallow television shows and other sorts of media. I want a companion who is critical, yet tolerant, of ideas, a companion that reads, a companion that I can sit with and discuss matters of philosophy and theology with, a companion who knows things and can engage in intelligent dialogue. Even while I am relatively unlearned, my studies and personal thoughts have tended to make me feel disconnected. I don't often find people who are prepared to talk about the issues that occupy my thoughts, and I absolutely relish every second of dialogue that I participate in with a sharp, yet humble, intellect. Nothing could be better than chillin' in a hot tub with my pretty little hog-stump and philosophizing about archetypes, causation in the sui generis creator-creation relationship, the nature of time, etc. (Note: I do not mean to imply by all this that women tend to not be thoughtful people. On the contrary, women are usually more thoughtful than men, and that is something that I find pleasant in them. Nevertheless, in our contemporary situation, most critical thought, which is partly inherent in the human, is stymied by a shallow consumer culture that requires conformity and unwitting participation in the institutionalized cultural geist and procedure. As a Christian, I want a woman whose allegiance belongs to God and who will consequently exercise critical and deep thought regarding the culture and the multiplicity of worldviews that vie for dominance over the lives of humans.).
On the other hand, I am devoted to the art of punmanship, and I reserve a good deal of my mind for the cultivation and digestion of absurd ridiculousness. I have an odd sense of humor, and I would like a woman who appreciates and engages it, or at least endures it. She must be willing to forgive (a lot) my tendency to listen poorly and to instead make puns connected to everything she ever says, or everything we ever experience together. So, yeah, sense of humor is pretty important.
1/2. M s b f r i i g.
I m k m s a e r t e f e u n l a d, b f r I b g n d t n a l d I w l i e a e t i p e i e: I a d m a d I w l d d m t i g , s m t m s n t o t o i n c n m t v s, s I h m l a k t a y u m g a i o s y p r o m w o s, a d I v w t a w y a k o l d e w a I' e d n a d t m k t e a p o r a e c a g s. I l v y u, b b. Y u b m g c i m l n. F r i e e s i e s n i l t e e y g o r l t o s i , f r p o l a e n t p r e t. S r o s y, f r a y n t p t u w t m , t e 'v g t a b f r i i g a d f r e t n .T i i w i d, s I' j s g n a w i e a f w m r r n o t i g . T i i p e t c o t o g . A y a , y a , I w n a w m n t b a t t b t f r i i g. A s , s e m s b w l i g t p r o m e a e c n e f u i m. F n l y, a n' n t i g b t e t a a w m n w t s r p e . I w l a s b f r i i g t w r h r. P a e!
Well, there ya go, folks. Those were four and 1/2 qualities that I would like for my future spouse to possess, although I most want a woman who knows how to be herself. I hope you agree or at least get what I mean. If you don't you should definitely get that checked out.
Before I end this contribution let me briefly address one more thing. There are a lot of presuppositions contained in this blog, and this session is not an exception. We will presuppose our future marriages, our future attitudes and preferences, and aspects of future people. So, let me insist that I am not entirely comfortable with assuming that I will achieve a state of nuptiality. There is certainly no necessary need to be married. Much Christian tradition, while acknowledging the sanctity of marriage, affirms the superiority of a single life (1 Corinthians 7). Yes, I do think that I will get married, but I do not rule out singularity. It is a valid option that deserves some consideration. In fact, I sometimes think I'd be better suited for it. Anyways, I just wanted to put that out there, floating like an awkward silence. See ya later, you wonderful person. Shalom!
Well, here it is folks. My most embarrassing story is... waiting until the last minute to do my post.
Thank you everyone. It was a lovely show, wasn't it? Don't worry. I'll be here all night.
No, but seriously.
Anyway, to fully understand my story, I have to give you background details. So, each spring break, our youth group used to take a trip down to Bayou La Batre, Alabama. Those of you who are involved with the same youth group as us will know how great of a trip it was. For those who aren't, it was a great trip! We stayed at the Hemley Road Church of Christ and got to worship God and do his work around a town that needed it. I've a lot of good memories associated with this trip, and this is not one of them.
So, it was another spring break at BLaB. We had been there a total of 24 hours, and I was loving it. I was surrounded by friends and doing something I love. It was a Sunday, and usually we go down and have service with another local church of Christ on Sunday. Before we left for the service, this ice cream truck had stopped by, and we filled up. Afterwards, we piled in to go to said church. I was riding in a smaller van with some of my friends and ice cream wrappers were EVERYWHERE. Keep this in my mind as we progress through the story.
From what I remember, it was a great service. I had a good time and got to meet some new brothers and sisters in Christ. After about an hour, we headed back to Hemley Road. It was getting fairly close to lights out time, so we had our short daily meeting, and then we were dismissed to free time by the chaperones. I decided to chill in the dining hall which is a short walk over from the main church building where we slept. I was hanging out and talking with friends and having a blast. But something was wrong. Every time I got up and walked around, I could hear laughter from behind me. And I was 100% they were not laughing with him. at first I just shrugged it off. Soon, I headed back to the main building to chill there, but when a friend of pulled me over, I grew concerned. She said something to the effect of "Honeybagel, well... umm... how can I put this? Oh, never mind, just keep walking."
So, I kept walking. Before I could get out the door though, another friend of mine (this guy is a true bro) came up to me and said. "Follow me."
I was very confused, but I did. He led to me to the auditorium where the guys slept and changed and pretty much lived for the week. He looked at me and said "Take off your shorts." And I replied, "WHAT?! NO!"
But then he said, "You have to trust me. Take off your shorts." Naturally, I did. Then, he said, "Now turn them around."
Boy was I shocked. For on the back of my shorts was... A giant brown spot. Right on the tail of my shorts. And I had been walking around and meeting total strangers at the service with this brown spot on my shorts.
It wasn't feces though. It was chocolate from the ice cream wrapper. But to the regular Joe, it very much looked like feces.
So, there you go. To sum it up, I walked around and met total strangers and socialized with people with a spot on my shorts that looked like I had accidentally taken a number two all over myself.
Well, this topic was a real struggle for me. With the vast sea of embarrassing moments throughout the short time I have spent in this world, it was extremely difficult to pick one singular event that I would share. Before I begin to divulge this humiliating anecdote, I feel obliged to inform you that this isn't my MOST embarrassing moment, you'd either have to get to know me much better or drug me to get that kind of information out of me. Anyway, that fact aside, I aim to make sure you don't come away from my post disappointed. Without further ado, I present one of the many embarrassing tales of my childhood.
It was a late midsummer's evening, my body was exhausted from a long day of Fusion Frenzy, Amazing Race, Slopping, and other zany summer camp activities. I was standing in the humid, musky shower house. I was standing underneath the shower head soaking up the ice cold water with only a disturbingly transparent shower curtain protecting me from the masses of angst-filled adolescent buffoons who were all packed into the small spider-infested bathhouse. I washed my sore and beaten-down body free of all the grime of a long, hot, summer day completely unaware of the imminent danger and potential public humiliation which was close at hand.
Camp Smiling Acres was the name of the camp in which I was staying, it is a great place, but it isn't as luxurious as some campers are used to. The camp consists of 5 landmarks. As you pull into the small patch of gravel in which one is expected to park, immediately adjacent to the parking space you have the Large pavilion. The Large pavilion has the kitchen which joins with the adult female living quarters on the first floor, and above that is the adult male living quarters where the fuhrer, aka Camp Director, sleeps. A larger open concrete area is also under the massive roof of the Large pavilion. Most daily activities take place in this area along with the camper's three daily meals and two daily snacks. The large pavilion doesn't play any role in this story, but I just thought you should know. The small pavilion is located on the right of the gravel road leading up to the parking space a little ways before you get to the large pavilion. The small pavilion is where most devotional sessions take place, nearby the small wooden pavilion are the basketball court and pool. None of these places play any slight role in the story either. The camp is obviously segregated by gender. The female section of camp is off yonder past the Large pavilion, and might I add, has much nicer bathrooms. The male section of camp is to the right of the large pavilion in a wooded area. In between the small pavilion and the boys' side of camp is a dirt path which leads over a hill and into the ball fields, but the ball fields also play absolutely no role whatsoever in this story.
Boys' camp consists of four cabins located in a small area that was clear of brush and forestry. The bathhouse was located ahead of the four cabins, and from the trees located near it were hanging a couple of clothes lines. Clothes lines were a resource that were highly competed for at camp. There is little room on said clothes lines where one could hang there clothes, towels, etc. to dry. Often, the clothes would be hung on top of one another rendering the clothes line useless and leaving both garments damp and smelly. It didn't help that camp was an overall messy environment, and one individual would have multiple pairs of wet clothing which would require prompt drying. Rain was also quite possible which often led to your clothes being more sopping wet than when you set them out there to begin with. And others were often careless or completely uncaring towards others and simply would knock your garments to the ground where they also would fail to dry. It was a messy deal honestly. The clotheslines honestly don't play any role in the story, but I am sure that you guessed that.
Finally, in front of the bathhouse, there was a single, unnatural, dark, wicked, solitary, accursed, light post. It was like a telephone pole in structure, except it had a light atop its towering wooden structure which never shown. It was a rather normal seeming pole to the ignorant passerby, but an evil was going to take place there that night which would shine a revealing light on that dark and dreaded pillar of despair. And in case you are a bit slow, this is definitely a location relevant to the story. Back to the shower.
I was washing myself after a long day, and it was most likely with a body wash and shampoo unfamiliar to me. I never packed that sort of thing for camp. I normally mooched off of whatever was left lying around the showerhouse. Anyhow, as I finished washing my person, I quickly dried my body off, and headed toward the door. As I approached the exit, I could see the ominous light post illuminated only by the light of the moon. As I stepped one foot out of the door... Hold on, I forgot.
To fully comprehend the event I am going to disclose, I have to go back one night. It was the first night of camp. Normally, the first night of camp is supposed to be peaceful in nature. But not this night. I could go into great detail about the events describing it thoroughly, but I guess I will just cut to the chase.
At this time, I was in the youngest boys' cabin (Cabin 3). We were all rather scrawny kids, which consequently left us prone to getting picked on the most. I mean, what were we going to do about it? Cabin 3 also had the most laid back Cabin Captain. Cabin 1 was the oldest cabin, which made them the most mature group of boys present. (There really wasn't much competition). The Cabin Captain of Cabin 1 was a young man who was extremely strong, chiseled, and had quite a hot temper. He also held the winning streak of the team challenges for the last two years of camp (and he would go on to continue his streak through the current year as well). Then, there was Cabin 2. Cabin 2 was filled with the lowest, meanest, diabolical, boys at camp. Ages 14-16, the ages in a young boy's life in which he becomes the dumbest jerk on the face of the planet. I choose to blame hormone imbalances. The Cabin Captain of Cabin 2 suited the cabin perfectly. He was simply a jerk, straight-up Dugong of a man.
Anyway, the first night of camp was supposed to be a quiet night, but as it turned out, Cabin 2 decided to get ahead of the game on their monkeyshines and prank us younglings on the first night. It really wasn't a big deal. A child whose name escapes me came in with lipstick and drew on our faces. I woke up while he was drawing on my face, so I saw exactly who he was. I was really too tired to care, so I just went back to sleep. The rest of my fellow brethren of Cabin 3 simply woke up with lipstick all over their faces. One kid did end up crying though. Classic Richard. Anyway, I simply washed it off early in the morning whenever I woke up, but even though the casualties were basically nonexistent, I still wanted vengeance.
I gathered my equally enraged brethren and we infiltrated Cabin 2 in the wee hours of the morn. We had one weapon in our arsenal. Baby Powder. A small prank in return for a small prank. It seemed fair to me. We opened the door to Cabin 2 in the usual tactless manner young boys possess, but Cabin 2 was filled with crafty devils. They had set a trap!
A broom had been tied to the ceiling and jimmy-rigged so that it came swinging down on my face as soon as the door was opened. Our forces retreated back to the cabin in fear. We had been discovered! But then, after a minute or so, we peeked our little heads out of the door to check out the damage, and we saw that the door to Cabin 2 was still open and the broom was just hanging limply there by a string. We stealthily returned and searched the bunk beds in search of the fiend until we at long last found him, and then we powdered him. He looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy, it was great.
Unfortunately, Cabin 2 did not take this assault lightly, and even more unfortunately, I was pinned as the ringleader of the escapade. I had a bright red target painted on my back, and no matter how long I spent in the shower, it wasn't going to come off.
Finally, we can go back to the bathhouse. I had just finished drying up, and I had one foot out of the door whenever I was ambushed from both sides. My towel fell to the ground and I was lifted to the ground by the arms and legs. I couldn't fight it. My frail, young body could do nothing against these chubby teens. They pinned me to the light post. Everything was a blur. The sound of duct tape screaming as I was tied down, anchored steadfastly to the pole. I looked around as all of the other boys laughed and scoffed me, one of the adult counselors was taking pictures, and Captain of Cabin 2 was applauding as his puppets did his dirty deeds. I looked at the devils tying me to the pillar of despair. Then my heart sank to a low like none other. For my own brother had the duct tape in his hands as well. Like Caesar who was attacked by his greatest friend Brutus I had been utterly betrayed.
"Cover his face!" roared the Captain of Cabin 2.
Without flinching my own brother covered my mouth, nose, eyes. The last thing I saw, was the grin which was gleaming in the moonlight, and the look in his eyes which cut me to the heart. My young mind could not perceive it. All I could hear through the tape was the bellowing and the eruptions of laughter from all of those around me. I started to choke on my tears. I began gasping for air, but I could get none. I had been sealed in this tomb of duct tape. I couldn't breathe. My mind was spinning, my heart was racing, my pride was crumbling, and my soul was hurled into utter despair. The judgement of all my peers and their laughter as I stood defenseless, weak, and alone, tore me apart. I was beyond embarrassed. I was ashamed.
Then, the tape was ripped from my face suddenly and instantly. My eyes were open, and the first thing I saw was the Captain of Cabin 1 towering above my assailants. He threw one of them to the ground. Then, with one hand he ripped me free from the pole and I fell to my knees. He then delivered one of the most heroic speeches I have ever heard. It went something to this effect:
"You fools! You devils! Feast thine eyes upon the works of thy crimson hands! Here lies a boy, a mere child! What hath he done to deserve such anguish! Let me hear the offense worthy of such persecution! Who hear shall tell it to me? Give the full testament! That you should beset him as a lions environ a lamb ere they tear he limb from limb! You dastards! Caitiffs!"
At this point the Captain of Cabin 2 spoke feebly in defense, "A jest-"
"Silence! You cur! You blubbering yellow harrier! Shall I mutilate thee in the presence of these? Shall I emasculate thee by thy peers and by thy adherents, thy disciples? Say another word and I will make a eunuch of thee for mere jest! I say for mere jest! Thou art a fool. I say a fool who governs fools! Return now to your hole you worms and rest now, for if I catch by whisper of wind a single unrest or stirring, mine wrath shall be poured out upon thee like that of a fire from the heavens which descends in a whirlwind!"
He then sent the crowds away, and carried me to receive medical treatment at the Large Pavilion. (Look at that, it was in the story after all). The next day the word had reached the girls' side of camp, and all of the cute girls heard about it and that too was embarrassing.
My brother apologized that night for his actions, and I forgave him. After all, grudges only create dissension which of course leads to discord which leads to the dark side. And the same thing applies to vengeance. I still have respect for the Cabin 1 Captain who saved me on that fateful night, and I have stayed in touch with him over the years. Anyway, that is one of my most embarrassing moments of all time. I hope you enjoyed it. That is, if you survived long enough to read the whole thing.
This session's topic is a rather interesting and personal one. The good folks here at the Queso Club headquarters have decided to each share a particularly embarrassing story from our experience. I'm looking forward to reading what my partners choose to share, and I will now relate to you an embarrassing story of my own.
Being the kind of individual that I am, there is a wealth of embarrassing stories from whence I may select one in particular. I've experienced everything from passing gas very loudly in a Bible class to accidentally belching in the face of a young lady to leading a hymn that I incorrectly assumed everyone in the congregation would be familiar with. However, one wacky story stands above all the rest. That story is still vivid from my childhood, and I shall name it my "Head Over Heals For a Hare" story. Without further... stuff, let us commence!
The story begins with young (7 or 8 year old) me at a wonderful place called Silver Dollar City. I was there with my nuclear family and my mother's parents. We were having a jolly day, cruising around the park and enjoying every aspect of the wholesome environment. After we had already been there for some time, we decided to pay a pleasant visit to the petting zoo area. It was a roughly 30' by 30' enclosed parameter with small goats, large rabbits, and other critters roaming around. We were all having fun playing with the mild animals, and I was especially enthralled with the young rabbits that I got to hold. After several minutes of holding one in my lap whilst sitting upon a wooden bench, I decided to see if I could make an exchange for a new young rabbit to hold. So, I walked unto a 4' by 4' square, wooden, open-topped arena in which the young rabbits were kept. The problem that I encountered was that the arena's wooden walls were a few feet high, and I was not all of the six feet that I am currently. Despite this obstacle, I was able to gently place the rabbit that I already had back onto the floor of the arena. However, I had serious trouble while trying to pick up another one, for they all retreated to the far side of the arena. I didn't give up. I kept at it, standing on severely tipped toes and reaching my upper body as far as I dare over the wall. Just when my little fingers were about to reach one of the precious creatures, my feet left the ground as my entire body flipped over the wall and my head and arms fell to the bottom of the arena where all the rabbits were. My hair was likely in a pile of rabbit scat, and I had an interesting upside-down view of all the creatures curiously evaluating my presence. I knew that many eyes were upon my feet that stuck out about a foot over the wall of the arena, for there were many people at the park that day, not just my family. For a couple of seconds I remained in my unnatural state before I felt a firm grasp upon my ankles. Before I knew what was happening, I began slowly rising out of the rabbit pen. Once my head rose above the wall, I could see that a rather unremarkable man (probably an employee of the park) had a hold of an ankle of mine and had nonchalantly lifted me out of the pen. From my new aerial position, hanging upside-down in the center of the area, I turned my red face and observed numerous shocked (yet humored) faces staring right at me. In fact, I even made awkward eye contact with my grandmother. Anyways, I felt absolutely terrible for a good while after that event. It took all my will power to refrain from breaking down in tears. It was that sort of embarrassment that makes you want to hid from everyone, but I was in a busy theme park, so that wasn't an option. I eventually got over it and enjoyed the remaining time with my family at the park. So, yeah, that's a traumatic, embarrassing story that I am comfortable with sharing. I hope you enjoyed it. If you didn't, you should get that checked out.
Before I wrap this up, I feel inclined to say a thing or two about pride. Without saying a lot and referencing the vast number of Scriptures that apply, let me say that pride can be a very dangerous thing, to the Christian and non-Christian alike. Pride comes before the fall, and we all sometimes need to be reminded that we are mortal, limited in ability, and often make silly mistakes. While there are some things that we can justly be proud of, the usual sort of pride is one that is deceptively self-elevating and contradicts the mindset of Christ, which every Christian aims to possess. Let's try to be thankful unto God for the times that He humbles us. Furthermore, let us live a life such that we boast only in our Savior Jesus Christ. Bless His name forever. Peace!
