The Tale of Jolly Judd

This is a blog written about me by my friend Andre the BFG

When Jolly Judd invited me, and thousands of his other acolytes, to write down their most transcendental memories of his beatific presence, little did I know that this would become an epitaph.

Saint Jolly

For Jolly Judd has been taken from us. In the prime of life, with at least 25% liver functioning remaining.

From the news it seems that in the early hours of the morning Jolly was hauled from his humble penthouse apartment at friendid=172325686 and, without trial, subjected to the cruel and unusual punishment of SUMMARY DELETION by the faceless suit-wearing minions of Tom the Bastard.

Hahaha! I got a kick out of that!

But you are not forgotten Jolly. Your teachings will resound down the ages. You will be an inspiration for generations to come – generations who aspire to freedom from moral tyranny and stuff.

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Gather round and listen up chickadees, and I’ll tell you the story of Jolly Judd, the sweetest geek who ever creased a cheek at those less fortunate. Or less well-endowed. Next to Jolly Judd, the Dalai Lama looked like a grumpy old man boiling kittens. Now this being a blog and all, it’s got a moral, and a question at the end that I want you all to answer. I’ll be marking you on your answers, so listen up real good.

Jolly Judd was so jolly, and so awesomely sweet, that he came to the attention of the Great Maker himself – the guy that we all want to meet one day. Yes, Santa Claus.

Now just about this time of year, Santa usually finds himself in a bit of trouble. It’s not so much that we’ve got more and more children on this earth, its that we’ve got more and more HEATHEN children on this earth, and Santa don’t give no toys to HEATHEN CHILDREN. And what with all the CHRISTIANS wearing condoms, fucking goats, burgling turds, and wanking to YouTube, there are getting less and less CHRISTIAN children to soak up all the toys that Santa’s elves churn out.

“Those goddamn motherfucking Muslims and Hindus!” Santa would say, with a chuckle. “If only they’d convert to the one true faith then I could give away all these toys instead of flushing them down the Yukon River every year to join the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.”

And so it came to pass that the man named Judd, whose is also called Jolly, came to his attention. We do not know exactly HOW he came to Santa’s attention chickadees, but we must suspect that Santa keeps a very close eye indeed on the mYsPACE “Top Blogger” rankings. How else would Santa know which boys and girls had been good, and thus deserving of a Wii, and which had been bad, deserving of Terry’s Chocolate Oranges, and which had been very bad indeed, deserving of Kleenex?

But Santa saw in Jolly Judd the perfect vehicle to convert the heathen to the one true faith. “A proper holy stealth weapon!” he ho-ho-ho’d as he scanned Jolly’s MySpace profile, with its pointed banter and twinkling background. “If anyone can convince the people of the eastern hemisphere that Westerners are not evil – shit, if anyone can convince them that THEY TOO can sample the delights of civilised Christendom, it’s this cute cherub, with his pert shiny buttocks and winning smile.”

And so Santa posted a magic comment on Judd’s profile and lo, as soon as Jolly Judd read it (for he refreshed his home page every 5 seconds) he was transported to India and right slap-bang into the middle of of the biggest religious gathering on earth – the Kumbh Mela. A festival of 70 million Hindus by the banks of the holy River Ganges. Instantly he was surrounded by children waving coloured ribbons and begging for baksheesh. Aghast, he watched as naked sadhus wrapped their penises around cacti and tied weights to their scrotums. Appalled, but nonetheless aroused, he beheld dusky maidens raising their saris to be blessed by the sacred lingam of the great god Shiva.

“Fuck me Santa!” cried Jolly Judd. “I can’t convert anyone here to Christianity. They’re all enjoying themselves too much! Send me somewhere else!”

And Santa took pity on poor Judd, and instantly transported him, still desperately twinkling, to Mecca in Saudi Arabia, where the festival of Eid ul-Adha JUST HAPPENED to be going on. “That’s better!” said Jolly Judd. “It looks like there’s only about two million heathens here, and most of them look miserable. No problem Santa my man!”.

And so, mounting to the top of the Kaaba, strapping on his laptop and plugging it into a handy cable connection, Jolly Judd began to weave his MySpace magic on the assembled pilgrims of the Hajj.

“AM I REALLY GOING TO CHANGE MY MYSPACE NAME?” he typed in bold capitals, and his words miraculously engraved themselves in letters 10 feet high on the side of the Kaaba.

Slowly, the circling crowd went silent, and Jolly Judd beamed.

But as he started to type in the punchline, “THE ANSWER IS …” a lone voice piped up, “Infidel!”. Suddenly the rest of the crowd was chanting “Infidel! Infidel!”. More and more people joined the throng, leaping out of customised stretch Hummers that streamed down the highway towards the mosque at the news of this amazing intrusion. Grappling hooks were thrown. A few hardy pilgrims even started to scale the side of the Kaaba, furiously girding their loins.

“Santa! Get me out of here!” screamed Jolly Judd and, just as the first dervishes were clutching at the cuffs of his pants and starting to whirl, Judd was whisked away into the sky amid heat-seeking ground-to-air missiles and hurled milkshake cartons.

“Fuck this for a game of soldiers!” shrieked Jolly Judd. “Give me something manageable you bastard!”

And so Santa dropped Jolly Judd into the only other big heathen gathering in the Eastern Hemisphere at that point in time. Yes chickadees, the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi-Gras.

Judd found himself standing on the back of a large flatbed truck grunting slowly up Pitt Street, weaving through dancing crowds and bathed softly in the sodium-yellow glow of streelights. More interestingly, he found that he was sharing the tinsel-spattered truckbed with a posse of twenty truckers. Well at least they SEEMED like truckers, with their muscular forearms, “fuck me bitch” tattoos and magnificent facial hair, but did truckers have the backsides cut out of their pants to expose their buttocks? Did truckers kiss each other quite so passionately?

“P-p-please”, gasped Jolly Judd, as he surfaced for air and pushed his new trucker friends away. “I need you to embrace the divine will”.

“I’ll do more than embrace him, darling, if he’s really so divine”, giggled one, in a husky growl.

“No, you don’t understand” floundered Jolly Judd. “Santa’s got some great toys for you. Just come with me”.

“Oh! Oh! I think I’m in love!” screamed the biggest trucker of all, grabbing Judd by the ears and grinding his bulging crotch in poor Jolly’s face. “But. Tell. You. What.” gasped the trucker, punctuating each word with a thrust against Jolly Judd’s quivering epiglottis, “Let’s not come just yet. Let’s paint this town red Red RED first of all and THEN I’ll go and play with your toys”.

And so they did.

Jolly Judd and the trucker, who turned out to be a lawyer from Wollongong, found that they had a lot in common that night. Late next morning, after Jolly had unstrapped his new friend from the bedpost, he called Santa and submitted his resignation. “Sorry Santa, man” he said. “If Jolly Judd can’t do it, then there’s just no way you’re going to turn any of these heathens on to Jesus. Not with the promise of a few toys anyway. They’re enjoying themselves too much already”. He gazed fondly at his new cock-ring for a minute. “Tell you what. Why not come down to Bondi for the weekend and help me fuck a few surfers?”

And so they did. And Santa enjoyed himself so much he brought all his elves down to Australia and they formed the new Kevin Rudd government.

And that, chickadees, is the story of Jolly Judd. And it explains why you won’t get no toys this Christmas. No, Hermione, it’s NOT fair. Yes, life is indeed a bitch, Simon. But who do YOU think is to blame? The heathens? Santa? God? Defective bathroom fittings? Well, I’ll leave that question with you.

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Tags: bizarre, christians, funny, great pacific garbage patch, hindus, Humor, Jolly Judd, missionary work, muslims, Snta Claus, Tom, top blogger, truckers

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