Saturday, June 25, 2005
Today Is My Birthday. All Of You Need To Eat A Piece Of My Flesh...
AN SOISGEUL AIR REIR NAOMH MARC
Teagasg Eoin Baistidh: Criosda air a bhaisteadh leis: Criosda a gairm a dheisciopul, 'sa deanamh moran mhiarailtean.
T OISEACHD soisgeul Iosa Criosda, Mac Dhe.
2 Air reir 's mar tha e sgriobhte san fhaidh Isaias: seall, cuiridh mi m' aingeal roimh do ghnuis, a reiticheas do shlighe romhad.
3 Guth neach ag eigheach san fhasach: Reitichibh slighe an Tighearna, agus dianaibh a rathadain direach.
4 Bha Eoin anns an fhasach a baisteadh, 'sa searmonachadh baisteadh an aithreachais gu mathanas pheacannan.
5 Agus chaidh duthaich Iudea uile mach ga ionnsuidh, agus muinntir Ierusalem gu leir, is bhaisteadh iad leis ann an abhuinn Iordain ag aideachadh am peacannan.
6 Agus bha Eoin air eideadh le fionnadh chamhal, is crios leathair mu mheadhon; agus dh' ith e locuist is mil fhiadhaich. Agus shearmonaich e ag radh:
7 Tha fear nas cumhachdaiche na mise tighinn as mo dheigh: neach nach airidh mise air cromadh sios is barail a bhrogan fhuasgladh.
8 Bhaist mise sibh le uisge; ach baistidh esan sibh leis an Spiorad Naomh.
9 Is thachair, gun tainig Iosa anns na laithean sin bho Nasareth Ghalile; agus bhaisteadh e le Eoin ann an abhuinn Iordan.
10 'S air ball a direadh as an uisge, chunnaic e neamh fosgailte, 's an Spiorad mar chalman a tearnadh 'sa fantuinn air.
11 Agus thainig guth bho neamh : Is tusa mo Mhac gaolach, is mor mo thlachd dhiot.
12 Agus ghrad-ghreas an Spiorad e dhan fhasach.
13 Agus bha e san fhasach da-fhichead latha, agus da-fhichead oidhche; is bhuaireadh le Satan e; 's bha e comhla ris na h-ainmhidhean, agus bha na h-ainglean a frithealadh dha.
14 'S an deigh do dh' Eoin a bhith air a chuir an greim, thainig Iosa do Ghalile, a searmonachadh soisgeul rioghachd Dhe,
15 'S ag radh: Tha 'n t-am air a choimhlionadh, 's tha rioghachd Dhe aig laimh; deanaibh aithreachas, agus creidibh san t-soisgeul.
16 'Sa gabhail ri taobh muir Ghalile, chunnaic e Simon,agus Anndra a bhrathair, a cur lion sa mhuir (oir b' iasgairean iad.),
17 Agus thuirt Iosa riutha: Thigibh leanaibh mise, agus ni mi iasgairean dhaoine dhibh.
18 Agus ghrad dh' fhag iad na lin, is lean iad e.
19 'Sa gabhail as a sin ceum beag air adhart, chunnaic e Seumas mac Shebede agus Eoin a bhrathair, 's iad a caradh nan lion sa bhata:
20 Agus ghairm e iad san uair. 'Sa fagail an athar Sebede maille ris an luchd thuarasdail sa bhata, lean iad e.
21 Agus chaidh iad a stigh do Chapharnaum; agus air dha a dhol a stigh gun dail air na laithean sabaid dhan t-sinagog, theagaisg e iad.
22 Agus ghabh iad ioghnadh ri theagasg: oir bha e gan teagasg mar neach aig an robh cumhachd, 's chan ann mar na Sgriobhaich.
23 Agus bha san t-sinagag aca duine anns an robh spiorad neoghlan, is dh' eigh e
24 Ag radh: Ciod an comunn eadar sinn agus thusa, Iosa bho Nasareth? An tainig thu gus ar sgrios? Is aithne dhomh co thu, Aon Naomh Dhe.
25 Is mhaoith Iosa air, ag radh: Bi samhach, agus gabh a-mach as an duine.
26 'S an spiorad neoghlan ga reubadh, 's ag eigheach le guth ard, chaidh e mach as.
27 Agus ghabh iad uile ioghnadh, ionnus gun d' fharraid iad 'nam measg fhein, ag radh: De tha so? De an teagasg ur so? oir tha e toirt orduigh le cumhachd do na spioraid neoghlan fhein, agus tha iad umhail dha.
28 'Agus sgaoil iomradh air gun dail feadh duthaich Ghalile uile.
29 'Sa dol a mach air ball as an t-sinagog, thainig iad maille ri Seumas is Eoin gu tigh Shimoin is Anndra.
30 Agus bha mathair-cheile Shimoin 'na laidhe ann am fiabhras; agus dh 'innis iad dha gun dail mu deidhinn.
31 Agus thainig e, 'sa breith air laimh oirre thog e i is ghrad-dh' fhag am fiabhras i, agus fhreasdail i dhaibh.
32 'S nuair thainig am feasgar, 'sa chaidh a ghrian fodha, thug iad ga ionnsuidh iadsan uile a bha easlainteach, agus anns an robh deomhain.
33 'S bha am baile uile air cruinneachadh aig an dorus.
34 Agus leighis e moran, a bha air an leireadh le iomadh gne ghalar, agus thilg e mach moran dheomhan, 's cha do leig e leo labhairt, a chionn 's gum b' aithne dhaibh e.
35 'S ag eirigh ro-mhoch, 'sa dol a mach, chaidh e gu aite fas; is rinn e urnaigh an sin.
36 Agus lean Simon e, agus iadsan a bha comhla ris.
37 'S nuair a fhuair iad e, thuirt iad ris: Tha iad uile gad shireadh.
38 Is thuirt e riutha: rachamaid dha na bailtean sa choimhearsnachd, gus an searmonaich mi an sin cuideachd: 's gur ann air son so a thainig mi.
39 'S bha e teagasg 'nan sinagogan, 's feadh Ghalile uile, 'sa tilgeadh a-mach dheomhan.
40 Agus thainig lobhar ga ionnsuidh, a guidhe air; 'sa tuiteam air a ghluinean,thuirt e ris: Ma 's aill leat, is urrainn dhut mo ghlanadh.
41 'Sa gabhail truais ris, shin Iosa a lamh, 'sa beantuinn dha, thuirt e ris : Is aill leam: bi glan.
42 'S nuair thuirt e so, ghrad-dh' fhag an luibhre e, agus bha e air a ghlanadh.
43 'S thug e sparradh cruaidh dha, agus leig e air falbh e gun dail;
44 'S thuirt e ris: Fiach nach innis thu do neach sam bith : ach falbh, fiach thu fhein don ard-shagart, agus tairg air son do ghlanaidh na nithean a dh' orduich Maois, mar theisteanas dhaibh.
45 Ach air dhasan a dhol a mach, thoisich e ri innse, 's ri sgaoileadh an sgeoil; air chor 's nach b' urrainn dha a nis a dhol a stigh don bhaile gu follaiseach, ach dh' fhuirich e a mach ann an aiteachan fas, agus chrunnaich iad as gach aite ga ionnsuidh.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 2:44 AM
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
And The Meek Shall Inherit Meek Genes...
Like Ender Wiggin, I am too tired to play like I used to, but will still win, even though I groan loudly whenever I move.
That was one of the worst sentences that I've ever typed, I think.
And because this is already so bad, it makes me want to stop. But I don't think that I will for now. I am waking up, even though it's past midnight, even though the gosssamer goading of things that I should be doing cling to my head and make me flail around my hands like some kind of epileptic/tourettic voodoo doctor.
If I could cast spells on people, I would first, uncast the many spells that have been cast upon me. I would first start with the physical ones and then move on down the list. It would be an honor for me to roll bones made of your fingertips. To spit on them and then to mingle them with the fresh blood of a sacrificed chicken.
Because I'm cheap and lazy - I'd probably just throw some KFC in the dirt and then spit on that. That made absoultely no sense. I think.
My father met Col. Sanders once. Emperor Hirohito of Japan. George Lucas. Eartha Kitt. And a descendant of Adolph Coors.
The first two are true. The rest are lies.
Typing tonight is my Battle School. Like Ender Wiggin, I am too tired to play like I used to, but will still win, even though I groan loudly whenever I move. Use this piece of writing as proof.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 12:19 AM
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Like Lightning - Except Only Slower - And More Like A Buzz, Instead Of A JOLT...
Sorry. I was talking about my mother's vagina.
No. I was talking about the state of my my mind.
But, yet, when one says a comment like the one that I previously stated - there's no amount of anything that can amount to something even close to the thing that I was going to tell you that really wasn't about anything anyway.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 1:40 AM
Saturday, June 18, 2005
"Through the use of MasterCard fraud-fighting tools that proactively monitor for fraud, MasterCard was able to identify the processor that was breached," the company said in its statement.
Ghosts pop up every so often.
Especially when you go out.
Ray Parker Jr. knows what's up.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 2:34 AM
Friday, June 17, 2005
Y' know, I Feel Sorry For People Who Don't Drink. Cuz' When They Wake Up In The Morning - That's The Best That They're Going To Feel All Day.
Happy Birthday, you awesome, dead bastard.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 12:50 AM
Thursday, June 16, 2005
If I could - I'd sell slivers of it in the bottom of special tequila bottles.
To be so smart, and then to die - must be frustrating.
But then, maybe, only stupid people are the only ones frustrated by death.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 12:56 AM
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
The Only Thing A Commander Ever Truly Controls Is His Own Army...
Days like the fastest molasses and dreams congeal into uneaten messes.
We never didn't appreciate the moment - but never gave the moments their due - knowing that there would be many more to come. The longing for past innocence creates future guilt. Not longing for longing feelings creates apathy. Apathy creates nothing. Nothing equals waste. Waste equals things that can't be used by you - but always by certain innovative and imaginative others.
And so you read this.
And I'm curious what can be done with these things...
when I'm not around anymore to see the results.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 11:42 PM
They Go For The Eyes First...
Yesterday, I was stopped at a stop sign and was fascinated by a crow pecking at a dead rat carcass. The rat's body would rise up from the asphalt every time that the crow plucked at it, and then it would thump back down to the ground. I kept on watching until a car behind me honked it's horn. I then ran around and did a bunch of useless errand-type crap, went home and felt like the dead rat I had seen earlier.
I wanted to be the crow.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 1:59 PM
It's My Little Sister's Birthday...
It is not Flag Day.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 1:58 PM
Friday, June 10, 2005
Rip Van Shithead...
I have spent the last two nights sleeping on the couch.
Better find out soon, boyo.
Your clock and relationship's tickin like an Al Qeada Dirty Bomb.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 1:52 AM
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
I Am Using The Largest Type Because My Eyesight Has Failed Me...
I feel like I've been blinded by Evil Ash from Armys Of Darkness.
Jason Voorhees has sliced my throat.
Freddy Krueger has stabbed my gut.
Micheal Myers is chasing me down dark hallways.
Frank The Bunny won't get out of my head.
Tyler Durden keeps knocking out my teeth.
And those stupid ferrets from Beastmaster keep on shitting in my boots.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 12:18 AM
Monday, June 06, 2005
Postage Will Be Paid By Addressee...
When I read this, I will be sitting bored in an insurance office.
I will wonder why I didn't write anything better, but then, I will yawn and remember how tired I was the night before, and what a long day it had been. I will congratulate myself on writing anything at all. I will take a drink of my Coke, read this again...and then it will all make a lot more sense. I hope.
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 3:50 AM
Thursday, June 02, 2005
House Of M...
It's cool that you want to talk to me about comic books at the grocery store. I usually don't get a chance to talk about nerdy things that I like with that many people, but...please just dont speak SO LOUDLY. Telling me HOW COOL THE CURRENT BATMAN STORYLINES ARE RIGHT NOW is not socially kosher there, bubba. Even if I'm just standing there by the flowers and holding windshield wiper fluid, paper towels and a six-pack of Bud Light.
It's just uncomfortable being outed like that.
Y'know...with the Bud Light and all...
Posted by Fat Free Milk at 8:53 PM