PROFOUND REVELATIONS

Tales oF the Absurd, Original Satire, Politics, Religion & News Commentary

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Santa Claus Is Stalking Me!

Santa Claus Is Stalking Me!

This is really starting to freak me out. For starters, I am not talking about one of those fake Santa’s, you know the guy wearing a fat suit with an obviously fake beard and mustache wearing a red velvet suit with white fake fur trim and those the big wide fake leather belt and boots. No, my friends, I am talking about the “REAL” Santa Claus.

This poses serious issues for me, mainly because of two obvious reasons.

  1. I don’t believe in Santa Claus
  2. I live in West Central Florida

Considering, that I am a grown man, I haven’t believed in Santa Claus since I was a very young child growing up in Southern California. I can still remember being 8 or 9 and looking up our fireplace (yes, we had an actual fireplace) and noticing that the chimney was very narrow inside and asking my Dad, how could Santa possibly come down the chimney when he was so large, or fat whatever the case may be.

My Dad patiently explained how in our case, Santa would actually come through the front door. He even made a big deal of making sure the front door was unlocked before we went to bed and my parents always made sure that there was a glass of milk and cookies for Santa right near the front door.

I really didn’t buy it, I was always a doubting Thomas, but I wasn’t about to rock the boat just in case. When it comes to presents on Christmas morning one couldn’t be too critical. Besides my younger Sister was absolutely convinced that Santa Claus was real, so I went along with it. Besides, If anyone is going to give me a bunch of presents, I didn’t care where they came from. Life was so very much easier then.

Secondly, I live in West Central Florida, and it’s been about 80 degrees all week-long which is about normal for this time of year.

Before I go any further let me explain. I have seen Santa Clause 5 or 6 times in the last several days. No, he has not been dressed up in one of those fat suits with the fake hair and cheap red suit. No, this Santa is the real deal.

This Santa Claus has very real long white hair, a big beard, and mustache, gold wire frame glasses The real Santa Clause wears a short-sleeved shirt, shorts, and black socks with white sneakers, and is always seen walking a Pomeranian looking small dog.

Like I said, I have seen Santa on several occasions, at first, it seemed like random events.

The first time I saw Santa, It was during the day last Saturday about mid-afternoon.I was sitting on my front screened in porch. You have to understand that I have high-tech screen where you can’t see in, but I can see out just fine.  I was sitting on the front porch when Santa walked by with his small dog. When Santa Claus got about even with me, he looked towards me and with a twinkle in his eye gave me a sly smile and a small nod of his head. Santa’s small dog also looked at me as well.

At first, I thought it was hilarious. Santa Claus wearing shorts with black socks and walking a small dog. I didn’t think anything of it. The funny thing is that Homer, my dog, didn’t even react. Normally, if anyone walks past the house, Homer, barks his fool head off.

Then I saw him again, and again, he was always still wearing the same shorts and polo shirt with the black socks and sneakers. He was always walking the same little dog and they would both look right me, and with a little nod of his head, and a twinkle in his eye he would acknowledge my presence. I swear the damn dog would nod and smile as well.

About this time I was starting to doubt by very core beliefs. I mean seriously I had for decades placed Santa Claus in the same neat category as vampires, Werewolves, and the Easter Bunny. But, definitely not the Tooth Fairy. I know for certain that the Tooth Fairy is real.

As a child, I used to take every tooth I lost and wrap it inside a cloth handkerchief and tie it up with an elaborate knot and place it directly under my pillow. The next morning, the handkerchief would still be tied up with my same elaborate knot, and magically my tooth would be replaced with fifty cents.  But I digress, this story is about Santa Claus, and not about the Tooth Fairy.

I saw Santa Claus walking by my house, While stopped a stop sign down the street, and even down the road. With each and every encounter he looked directly at me and with a twinkle in his eye, he nodded his head in my direction and smile. His little Pomeranian looking dog also looked at me and smiled as well.

I knew then, that these were no random encounters. Without a doubt, Santa Claus was stalking me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Seriously, what was I going to do? Call the Police and tell them that Santa Claus was stalking me? Somehow, I didn’t see that going really well.

The last time I saw Santa Claus he was tight down the street. Being hyper-vigilant, I saw him first. I had just pulled up to the stop sign right down the street, and there he was.  Santa was right in front of the antique store wearing a white polo shirt, khaki shorts and his signature black socks, and sneakers.

As I began my left turn, Santa’s little dog saw me first. Santa slowly turned to look directly at me, and before he could react, I gave him a jaunty wave, and a thumbs up for good measure. Santa Claus chuckled and waved back. I was now a true believer.

You can bet that on Christmas eve I am going to be prepared. We have a fireplace in the living room, but it’s sealed off. I am going to leave the front door unlocked, and place a glass of milk and cookies near the front door.

Thank you Santa for making be believe again.

 

As Always,

I Am…

Tom Dye, The Safety Guy

This holiday essay is an original work of satire,  from Tom Dye, The Safety Guy.

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Man Kicked Out Of Darts Tournament For Looking Like Jesus

Man Kicked Out Of Darts Tournament For Looking Like Jesus.

This actually happened, let me tell you all about it.

So, here’s what really happened on that fateful day, not long ago. You see, I actually made it through to the final round of a major darts tournament, I had a real shot at winning the big $25,000.00 first place, cash prize. I had been practicing diligently,

I had been practicing diligently, every day for months. If you don’t believe me just check out the wall of my living room, near my regulation tournament dartboard, it has the battle scars to prove it. You know what I am talking about, all those little holes in the wall around the dart-board from all those missed shots.

The big tournament day was finally here, I actually felt pretty damn good, I hadn’t made a new hole in the living room wall in months, and my game had been spot on for several weeks, through round, after qualifying round. The big prize money was mine. I really felt confident, and relaxed.

I strolled down to the tournament early, signed-in, and hit the bar to grab a beer. As I sat at the bar eyeing the final competitors, I actually allowed myself to dream about all the things I could do, with all that money.

Suddenly, I started hearing this rhythmic chanting from near the front door, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,  everybody started staring towards the door, and craning their necks to see, people even started standing upon their chairs, and tables to get better look. The chanting continued – Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

There’s a commotion and the crowd parts just like the Red Sea, and there he is, Jesus himself, gliding towards the sign-in table. Jesus, signs in. WTF, A million thoughts start running through my head, How in the hell am I going to possibly beat Jesus at darts? …What doe’s Jesus need the $25,000.00 prize money for anyway? …Did Jesus invent darts? …Maybe, I wouldn’t want to win, maybe, just maybe, Jesus is a sore loser, and might turn me into a pillar of salt, or something worse.

If I did win, did that mean I was more powerful than the Son of God? Jesus, slowly turns, looks up, and stares straight at me, Jesus holds up, and points to his solid gold, custom dart case. The case is engraved with angels and trumpets, all heralding the power, and glory of God.

At that exact moment, I realized that my dreams of winning the $25,000.00 prize money are now totally shattered. This was so not fair.

Jesus glides up to the bar, just opposite from me, dressed in his usual long robes, and really cool, hand-made sandals, on his feet. Jesus’s long flowing brown hair is perfect, and shiny. I thought to myself, I wonder what shampoo and conditioner he uses, and where could I get a pair of those really cool sandals, they have got to be far more comfortable than these cheap shoes, I wear all the time.

Every eye in the place was upon Jesus, as he asked the bartender for a glass of water. The disinterested bartender, Ernie, hands over a glass of water to Jesus. The moment Jesus’s hand touches the glass, the water, instantly turns into wine, red wine, to be exact. With a satisfied smirk, Jesus lifts the glass, and takes a sip. Jesus smiles, for he knows that it is good.

The chanting starts again, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Suddenly, above the raised voices of the chanting crowd, The Bartender, Ernie, can be clearly heard saying; “Hey Buddy, If your going to do that, the waters not complementary, I got a business to run”.

Jesus, and his considerable entourage, start heading my way around the bar.
Jesus, still holding the water-glass, now filled with red wine.
I decide that I am not dealing with this, and turn back towards the bar.  I continue to slowly sip my beer. I can sense, and feel, that Jesus has stopped directly behind me, that and the fact, that his entire entourage, has also seemed to have stopped as well.

I attempt to just ignore Jesus, and not even bother to turn around. Hopefully, Jesus will just go away. I am in no mood to talk to Jesus, as I am still conflicted on exactly what strategy I am going to use, to hopefully win the entire tournament, and the $25,000.00 first prize. Before any tournament, I prefer to just be alone, to reflect and relax.

You are not going to believe what happened next…You should be sitting down, before reading this……

Jesus, who was still standing directly behind me, started trash talking me. That’s right trash talk, stuff like; Hey Punk! think you can beat me? You scared?  you should be. You think you’re the best, well maybe you are, that is until I got here sucker, Don’t turn your back on Jesus, You want to make a wager, I will even spot you a few points. On and on, and on.

I slowly turned around on my bar stool, until I am face to face with Jesus. What kind of talk is that Jesus? Your father would be so proud of his only son. (Hey what can I say, that’s all I could think, of on a moments notice.) The room suddenly became deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop.

Jesus just stood there a minute, then laughed, laughed really loud, and confidently, his entourage also laughed, Jesus clapped me on the shoulder, and without another word, turned, and walked away, towards the arena, where the tournament would soon be held. His entire entourage followed him and just glared at me as they passed.

As I sat there watching Jesus, and his now even larger entourage walk away.
I watched Jesus showing off along the way and perform a few small miracles as he made his way to the arena.

As far as I could tell, these miracles were nothing big, you know, simple stuff like placing his hand on top of a bald guys head, and he grew hair, placing his hand over that woman’s mouth, that had no teeth, and bam! she now had a perfect set of pearly white teeth, or the guy with the thick coke bottle glasses that made his eyes look the size of golf balls, I doubt this guy had ever had a date in his entire life. Jesus walked over to him, pulled off his glasses, spoke softly to him, and just like that, he had perfect 20/20 vision.

Finally, a young divorcee, a woman whose sleazeball of a husband left her for another woman, just because she had breast cancer, and had to have a double mastectomy and of course her insurance would not pay for any sort re-constructive breast surgery.

Jesus casually walked over to her, placed his hands upon her chest, and Bam! she suddenly had had the most perfect set of breasts the world had ever seen. I know this for fact, because she proceeded to skip around the bar, lifting up her shirt, and showing literally everyone. After every miracle that Jesus performed there would be another polite round of applause, followed by another round of chanting; Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

I am no fool, I knew exactly what Jesus was doing, he was just trying to psych me out, and intimidate me, and  the other finalists as well. I have no doubt that if there had been a pool of water in his path, he would have walked on it, just to make a point. Well, Jesus’s plan must have worked, every one of the other finalists, suddenly dropped out of the tournament. It was now just down to two, Me, and Jesus.

I had already resolved that I was not going to be intimidated by Jesus, or anyone else. I decided that I was going to play to the very best of my abilities, I was going to play darts just like my life depended upon it. Who knows, maybe it did.

Jesus, and his continually growing entourage, proceeded to walk towards the dart competition area, and finally disappeared into the main arena.  Me, on the other hand, still sat at the bar, ordered another beer, and waited. It’s funny everyone seemed to avoid me, kind of like a dead man walking. The ultra cheap bartender, Ernie, even bought me the next beer. In three years, Ernie, had never, ever, bought me a free round, not even on my birthday.

After about 45 minutes or so, I heard myself being paged over the PA system, Tom Dye, The Safety Guy, the tournament will begin in ten minutes, please report to the main arena. I downed the last of my beer, picked up my case of darts, and headed to the arena.

As I strolled towards the arena, I noticed off in a cozy corner, the guy that formerly had the coke bottle glasses, and the woman with the new spectacular boobs. They were holding hands, and staring into each others eyes. I remember thinking that they made a really good-looking couple. I really hoped it worked out, for both of them.

As I headed towards the arena, I began to hear the chants of, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.  As I got closer, the chants grew louder, and louder still, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

As I entered the arena, I was greeted with close to 4,500 people chanting, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. This chanting went on for some time. It was starting to become really, really annoying.

Finally, after the crowd refused to stop chanting, and after being admonished by the judges, and security officials, several times, the security officials fearing a  major disruption to the entire final competition, deliberated and made a decision.

The security officials, disqualified, and removed Jesus from the final tournament.
After all rules are rules. Evidently, divine intervention really doe’s happen, as I won the tournament, and the $25,000.00 cash prize, by default. I never threw a single dart, not even one.

OK, for those of you who are just about to pick up the phone, and call your spouse, all of your friends, and family, and exclaim; “Check this out, Tom Dye, The Safety Guy, played a dart tournament with Jesus, yes, Jesus, and guess what, Tom Dye, The Safety Guy actually won”.

Whoa, whoa,…Hold your horses, hang up that phone. Seriously, hang it up right now.

I have a confession to make, I just made the whole thing up. In reality, some guy, who had just grown his hair, beard, and mustache, for a few months, and coincidentally looked exactly like the famous painting of Jesus, was kicked out of a darts final tournament, because close to 4,500 people in the crowd would not stop chanting, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

Seriously, nobody, anywhere, would actually believe that Jesus would walk into a bar, turn water into wine, trash talk a competitor,  and perform some cheap miracles, just to impress a bunch of drunken fools, because, that my friends, would be totally absurd.

As for me, actually playing darts? There is only one way to describe my dart throwing ability, basically, I SUCK AT DARTS!

The only miracle would be, if after throwing a dart, I was able to avoid seriously injuring innocent bystanders.

 

As always,

I am…

Tom Dye, The Safety Guy

 

This article is an original work of satire by, Tom Dye, The Safety Guy, and is, very loosely, OK, hardly at all, based on real life events as reported in the news.

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BunnyMan Smackdown, Officer Charged With Assault!

BunnyMan Smackdown, Officer Charged With Assault!

HOPATCONG, N.J. – On November 16, 2016, BunnyMan, a.k.a. Kevin Hemmerich, entered the Hopatcong, N.J. Police Department to turn himself in for a warrant related to a traffic accident.

Let me make one perfectly clear, BunnyMan is not a nickname for Kevin Hemmerich. Kevin dresses up in an actual bunny costume.

This story was covered by dozens of local, national and international mainstream media outlets including; ABC, NBC, AP and a multitude of others. The strange thing is every single one of them repeated the story almost exactly word for word. So obviously, we are not being told the entire story.

As Tom Dye, The Safety Guy, I have done the deep digging to get to the real facts of the matter. In previously articles, I have warned you about the dangers of killer squirrels, the dangers of giant spiders, and even how dogs are the four-legged spies amongst us.  However, the BunnyMan phenomena may well be the greatest threat to us all.

Lets first look at what the mainstream media reported. Allegedly, Keven Hemmerich dressed in a BunnyMan costume, entered the Hopatcong, N.J. Police Department armed with an air-horn and attempted to turn himself in because of a warrant regarding a traffic accident.

Upon entering the lobby of the Police Department and being totally ignored by the Police, BunnyMan proceeded to blow one of those compressed gas type air-horns to get some service. Good thing that BunnyMan just happened to have an air-horn in his possession because it worked. Talk about a great way to draw attention to one’s self.

OK, I will be the first to admit that BunnyMan was a little “over exuberant” in his judicious use of his air horn to get the attention of the Hopatcong Police. However, he sought to get attention, and he got it. In less than 90 seconds, a Hopatcong Police officer enters the lobby, gets right up in BunnyMans personal space and slapped BunnyMan right across the face. This horrific act of Police Brutality (0r animal cruelty?) was all caught on video by BunnyMan’s brother.

The Police officer, Nicholas Maresca Jr. was eventually charged with one count of simple assault. And this my friends is where literally every mainstream media outlet ended this story. Seriously? What’s f**king wrong with these so called, mainstream media News outlets? It’s no wonder they have lost all credibility with their readers.

So, after consulting with various experts around the country, I mean really intelligent people, all are involved in various academic disciplines and asking them the tough questions that you have come to expect from Tom Dye, The Safety Guy, I was still struggling for an answer.

After many, many, more hours of consultations, and days of exhaustive research, not to mention gallons of coffee, it suddenly came to me in a flash. I finally had the revelation I had been seeking all along.

This information I’m about to give you is really disturbing. There were only two logical conclusions that adequately describe this type behavior. Both scenarios are absurd, but only one truly fits all the facts.

My first thought was, (which by the way I am assigning a very low probability (<10%)) is that BunnyMan is actually trying to pull off the stunt as was first described by Arlo Guthrie in 1969 in his classic song, “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree”.

(If you have been in a coma for 40 years, or are from another planet, and are not familiar with “Alice’s Restaurant”. Just go to YouTube, and type it in.)

Forty-seven years ago, Arlo Guthrie described a way to get out of the draft. However, this technique could easily be adapted to several different scenarios. In part, Arlo wrote:

“Walk into the shrink wherever you are, just walk in, say, “Shrink, . . . you
Can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant”, and walk out.

You know, if one person, just one person, does it, they may think he’s
Really sick and they won’t take him”

Like I said, I did assign this first scenario a very, very, low probability. I am just trying to be totally transparent in my thought process here.

However, a much greater probability (>90%) is far more insidious, and a very scary prospect. Actually, this one really scares the crap out of me.  Unfortunately, this is where the bulk of the evidence points to.

My conclusion is that we are only seeing the very tip of the iceberg. BunnyMan is only the first of many, soon to be hundreds, or even thousands, of reported cases of people acting erratically and dressing up as Bunnies, Dogs, Cats, Hamsters, or whatever animal meets their fancy.

What I see occurring here is that people are starting to experience a type of psychotic break with reality in response to the incredible stress of the events of 2016. This year was the most polarizing and stressful in modern times. It is almost too much to turn stress just to just to turn on the News because we know there will be another report of loss and destruction. For many of us, this is just too much to bear.

Think about it, in 2016,  we lost some of the biggest artists of our time, David Bowie, Prince and many, many others. This was also the year of extreme political turmoil around the world, Brexit, Bernie Sanders, Hillary’s emails, Donald Trump, the refugee crisis, and not to mention the total collapse of the regular world order.

This massive upheaval and upending of our normal reality is obviously causing some people to revert to simpler ways of life as a coping mechanism. Think about it, some of us may find that reverting to the safe mentality of common animals such as bunnies, cats, dogs, or other kind and furry animals who do not suffer from human levels of stress, or the ravages of human intelligence is a very compelling option.

Mark my words! We are going to see this so called “BunnyMan” phenomenon play out more and more in the coming weeks and months, and there is nothing we can do about it. These poor souls do however need our help.

Just remember when you see these adults dressed up as kind furry animals don’t recoil in fear, or take pity on them. Just talk softly, scratch them behind the ears and tell them everything will be OK.

Eventually, this too shall pass, as all things eventually do. With our love and compassion, these poor BunnyMan will eventually be re-integrated into society along with their dog, cat and hampster companions.

As Always,

I Am…..

Tom Dye, The Safety Guy

 

This News Commentary is an original work of satire,  from Tom Dye, The Safety Guy. 

The original news story that inspired this article can be found — “HERE”.

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