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Bonjour! I see you are scanning the socials for what's happening on Mother's Day in church.Ah, scanning — that's what mothers do to sniff out threats when they enter a room. I remember getting sniffed before. Not good memories.Anyway, where was I? Mother's Day. Yes. It will be a Xena inspired Warrior Princess theme. Bring your mother because Pastor wants to inspire her with a sermon about Deborah and Jael bludgeoning evil men into the ground. A perfect message for those who are fierce and handle sharp tools more than once a day. Oh, and we have a photo booth where your mother can reenact chasing you with a battle axe. Like that time you didn't pass up your exercise book for three months and she eventually found out. Except back then she chased you with something else. This Mother's Day, give your mother the very best experience possible, and let her reenact it with an axe.

Are we there yet?Are we there yet?I'm bored. Are we there yet?I never said this out loud to my kids but the reason why I never answer them when they ask me "Are we there yet?" is because my name is not Yet. My name is Daddy. The logical assumption therefore is that they are talking to an imaginary friend called Yet. It's sweet to see your kids in such a happy-go-lucky place in life, talking among themselves and with their imaginary friends. Sometimes they even pretend to get annoyed with Yet. Such realistic actors.As for the question itself, the answer is "Yes, we are there yet."

One time, I came home from doing the groceries and I found someone else living in my house. They had redecorated the living room, repainted the walls and repaved the garden. Absolutely nuts. Of course, when I say “doing the groceries”, what I really mean is I got exiled for 70 years and had left my house vacant. But still… 70 years isn’t that long if you really think hard about it. It’s like a lifetime. It goes by just like that. Anyway, all that’s not the point. The point is that I finally came back. Amen to that. And I gotta learn to get along with those folks. Hmmm-what? They have to learn to get along with me? No, no, no. Firstly, I’m super easy to get along with. And no, this land is my land.

So long, Jerusalem. They’re guilty as sin. The last two tribes enter into riddance. Their tarnished coat of arms, their bruises, aquired like muses, talismans and charms.Kena kickkickkickdown bad.Seventy years isn’t that long. It’ll go by like *snap a fortnight. Cos even Persia crumbles if it's made to wait. But then what? Fresh out of the slammer to return to what? Alchemy? Only God can fix them (No really He can).

Fee fie fo fum! I smell the blood of a ruler of Israel with no fear of Yahweh.While their nations teeter on the edge of malfunction, the kings of Judah and Israel play political cat and mouse with the region. See, before the heart was an idol factory, all the idol factories were here. It was great business, and they made a killing: prophets, widows, orphans, it didn't matter who they slaughtered, as long as it helped them make gains. "Forget about Jehovah. What this world needs is for us to be powerful!" Erm guys. You're acting like Canaanites. Please repent. No, srsly. This has not been funny for a long time now.Around that time, God hacked the whole beanstalk down.

Pray tell, what do prophets actually do? Exactly that. Pray and tell. They do a lot of telling-off too. So much, we gave it a number and called it "4 telling". (Or is it "4th telling"? I can never be sure.)But anyways, they all get murdered by the state without putting up much resistance. Now I’ve too obviously set that up for an Easy Kill joke."I came. I saw. I konked."That's more like it.