A careful reading of Genesis reveals that when the Serpent first offered Eve the apple she replied, "I bet if I shellacked that apple and studded it with fragrant cloves, and then hot-glued the whole thing with an overlay of jumbo red sequins, it would make a darling year-round ornament for our Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil."
Our beloved pastor, the Reverend Lionel Harmwater, has led his flock in scrapbooking the entire Bible by adding doily borders to every page, along with oaktag-framed photos of bowling pins on which parishioners have enamelled the faces of their patron saints. This Bible now weighs more than fifty-eight pounds and rests on a reinforced redwood picnic table in the sacristy, surrounded by beeswax candles set inside coffee cans that have been spray-painted to look like spray-painted coffee cans.
For my five beautiful daughters, and the other one, I have used a cheerful heavy-gauge yarn, mixing strands of cashmere, alpaca, and barbed wire, to knit what I call a Crotch Cozy. When my girls wear their Crotch Cozies, they not only receive endless compliments in the locker room but sexual intercourse becomes impossible. Any additional form of birth control is unnecessary.
From Paul Rudnick's piece, "Hobby Lobbyist," in the July 21, 2014 edition of The New Yorker.