What You're Going to Do

I may have opened my mouth a little too wide, the other day_talking to my neighbour outside. These people have been living next door for about eighteen months now, and, we have had meny, meny conversations; as things go for city-dwewllers_who don't usually know much about one another in the first place. Never has the conversation conversed in that time, towards the direction of me being known within the realms of establishment as The- Reincarnated Christ; that the subject came directly out of left-field, so-to-say. There's no need to transgress into the dulldrums of the exact wording of the conversation; that it will service to state: it took aproximately 30 to 45 of the first minutes-seconds of a three minute conversation, before my neighbour had already called me Jesus, twice!

Of course you can see what the problem is here now, don't you? Tomorrow, or whenever is the next time I see my neighbour, all these questions have to go through my mind_of which i surely have no intention of disgussing with the likes of you, but, more importantly, meny questions have already, I'm sure, gone through the head of my neighbour as to "How could this all be possable, Jesus, lived next-door to him and nobody knew?" And if you don't know how pratically, erotically-humorous that is, I might as well just roll-over, and, crawl back into my tomb. I give-up. But that was a lie! `We never give-up, and, all our enimies are always sacrificed. So be carefull out there out there, my pepole, please.

And now what you're going to do is: Go away and think about all this for a while. After all, it's only fair. I have to. And for every day of the rest of my life. Surely you can take a few minutes to think what you're going to do about it?
amen