what jesus don't know won't hurt him

Today is Holy Saturday, a special day even if you don't happen to have been raised Catholic. Here's the timeline: Jesus has the Last Supper on Thursday. Friday, He's crucified. On Easter Sunday, He rises again. But what about Saturday?

Saturday was the day Jesus chilled out in the tomb. Easter was gonna be a big deal, so he rested up. That means Jesus is not around, and as I understand it, moral law is pretty much suspended that day. Do what you like. What Jesus don't know won't hurt him.

Churches seem to feel the same way. You can't get married on Holy Saturday, or have a funeral that day. It's the Pope's way of making sure everyone has the day off, and can do what they like. Even the altar in church is stripped bare, as if the vestments themselves are taking a day off. We've all left early when the boss is on vacation, so why should a tabernacle be any different?

It's important not to abuse the privilege. If your parents leave for the weekend and you throw a party, you better clean things up before they return. In the same way, make sure whatever sinful debauchery you engage in on Holy Saturday is out of your system by Sunday, or else Jesus is going to be pissed. Jesus thinks you're mature enough that he can spend one single Saturday away, so don't violate His trust and ruin it for everyone else. Even three betrayals of the Lord before the cock crows are OK - provided the betrayals don't get out of hand and stretch into early Sunday morning.

So use the Lord's name in vain, dishonor your parents, and covet everything you see today. Who's gonna say anything? But when the clock strikes twelve, your sins turn back into pumpkins, so clean up that language before it's time to hunt eggs. I'm looking at you, Simon Peter.

unsexy descriptions of sex

Inspired by this
Laurell K. Hamilton comment)

"Wait," he whispered, caressing her bound hands with a light touch. Pierre sensually lifted the remote control and with a dextrous yet gentle finger, unpaused the DVD of "The Lion King".

He returned to Desiree, his warm breath on her trembling neck making her loins vibrate.

Pierre hesitated before commencing with his ravishment of her. "I just have a question," he said, as Desiree strained against her bonds. "Can you feel the love tonight?"

* * *

Antonio looked across the table. Graciela stared back at him, big blue yes brimming over with liquid eye lust.

"Did you enjoy the expensive and elegant meal?" asked Antonio.

"Yes," answered Gabriela, in a totally hot way.

"We have dessert," began Antonio, but Gabriela shushed him with just a look and a shushing gesture. What she said next totally gave Antonio a boner.

"I want your thingy," she said. "I want to touch that thingy, and look at that thingy. All of that thingy. That's what my girl-thingy wants."

Antonio swept the styrofoam cartons aside. He kissed Gabriela with his lips and tongue. "Baby, I want to, you know," he said.

"Yes," she whispered. "I do know."

Then they were totally doing sex.

* * *

Karen broke away from her passionate embrace with Stephen. "I have to ask you something," she said. "What is lembas?"

"Lembas?" he asked. "Why, it's an Elvish waybread invented by Melian, the queen of Doriath. Elves often used it for sustenance during an extended journey."

"So, why do all the girls call you that?"

Stephen blushed. "I didn't know you had heard that nickname. They call me that because I'm very satisfying, and if wrapped in magical leaves, I last a long, long time."

Karen smiled and beckoned to Stephen. He attacked her lips like Beren, son of Barahir, assaulted Angband in his attempt to snatch a Silmaril from the Iron Crown of Morgoth, which was later stolen by dwarves after they sacked the fair land of Doriath.

"O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!" he cried, as he entered her. She felt as soft as the banks of the Brandywine, as rare as mithril.

"Steven," Karen gasped. "Talk Elvish to me."

He smiled. "High-Elven, or Grey-Elven?"