Nothing says merry christmas like getting rid of your devilish area code number, eh? Myself, I love calling the local Papa John's because the last part of the phone number? 666. SATAN'S PIZZA! No wonder it tastes so dang good, all covered with the mark of the beast...
We briefly looked at a house for sale with the house number "666"... we decided against it because, cute as a button, it was built out of asbestos. Nope. Even though I'm sure that would provide ample protection against the hellfire and brimstone, I was not interested in living in a possible carcinogenic abode. Recently, though, I drove by and noticed that the new owners had had the number changed to 669. Hmm. Interesting choice, is it not? Apparently Satan was no good, but spicy sexual practices? Right on.
Anyway, I was listening to the BBC the other night and heard this report about a town in Louisiana that struggled for FORTY years to get their area code changed from the dreaded prefix "666." Now residents can opt for the placid, non-Antichrist summoning "749." Yawn.
Their mayor explained that after four failed attempts, they are just so glad to have the new number because ""This is a good town. ... We're good Christian people.".
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2 comments:
I can't express enough how badly "Good Christian People" are getting on my last nerve lately.
Amen!
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