Here is baby J hanging out at the vineyard in back.
He says: Here are the vines that take the sun and the water and the dirt and make grapes. Miraculous, huh? It gets even better. These grapes make wine. Which I will grow up and tell people is my blood.
I say, drink of it! Drink that wine. But not too much. Even if it is the holidays and your relatives are driving you up the wall. And dude? Eggnog is not drinking of me. I think Santa brought that stuff. You should see that guy at our office party – crazy bastard peed in a flowerpot last year.
As you can see when the grapevines die back: Behold, crosses bear up the weight of the Jesus Juice Makers! Cool, huh? Either that or this place was built on an old cemetery.
PS: You people are killing me with your requests. Tiny nightgowns? Dancing Dora’s? What do you think I am, some kind of miracle worker?! (J insists I point out that this is Anne talking. Because. You know. I’m not a miracle worker by trade.) But also thank you, because it is keeping the crazy in a nice little compartment as I go into this holiday. Whee! Tiny nightgowns! Dancing Doras!
Speaking of miracles… I would like to request the walking on water one… or one of those where he feeds the masses. Can Baby J do a Christmas dinner?
Wow. My Technorati thing popped up, “Baby J’s grapes” and i got all excited, and of course totally thought Baby J was going to actually talk about his grapes. His jewels. His door-knockers.
There is something very wrong with me.
Jesus Juice! Yes! I drink it with my Krist Krispies with Martyr Berries.
(That needs some backup- my husband once created a product that he called Krist Krispies: Now with Martyr Berries (TM)! The berries would “bleed” into milk and make it all red.)
I don’t know if you can top todays post! Grapes, Crosses……Oh so funny!
What will Baby J do next?
Favorite holiday tradition, EVER. At least I hope it is a tradition.
When is baby J going to do a questionable photo shoot where he gets chicken grease on his tiny nightgown and let one of the goats poop on it? O that wasn’t baby J? Damn.
Duuuuude. baby J is so going to be doing the Walk of Shame on Christmas morning if he keeps going at this rate. Mary and Joseph are going to be all, Baby J, WHAT is that on your arm? Holy YOU! Tell me you didn’t get a tattoo?! And why is your breath flammable?
This right here is EXACTLY why I like the Catholic Church. For real.
And you. But I LOVE you. And Baby J. And his grapes. And your photos. Good gravy, your photos.
Julie
Using My Words
I too wanted to see Baby Jesus’ grapes. His hanging brains. His gonads. His balls of fury. But no, no Godly Balls of Greatness and Majesty. I am crushed.
Sam, I think we are destined for greatness, you and I. Questionable greatness.
Are those really grape vines or just dead Elms?
I am loving this more everyday. I think you could probably turn a napkin into a tiny nightgown. I won’t tell anyone if that’s how you do it. Honest. 8^)
Does baby J know that he is about to get betrayed in a grove somewhere and will then have to end his month of glorious travels and go sit in a dusty old manger? WITH HIS PARENTS?
Maybe you shouldn’t tell him. Maybe he should just party it up on his last day out.
😆 Jesus Juice! Wine the juice from God.