One Word: Slater. Not A.C. Not Kelly. But my Slater of the sweet sweet Christian persuasion. As many of you know, and as I have probably blogged about before, I love me some Christian Slater. Usually I'm not a fan of the hair helmet, but Christian has the bone structure and forehead for it, besides who doesn't want to be the one to blame for mussing up those perfect tresses? I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
But I digress. Recently a good friend of mine, has been called to teach Sunday School. Normally it would be cause for severe dread, and an excess of skipping out early from my ecclesiastical duties, mainly because we all know, that when friends become important with responsibilities, then you become fodder for their hoity toity cannons. So naturally I was afraid I'd get called on to read or give pence to the discussion. However scared I was to go to class, I pulled together and went. Back row of course. Said friend began his lesson, and about halfway through the lesson as I sat contemplating my soon impending doom and demise, I was comforted by one thing, and one thing only. The mention of Christian Slater. Instantly my ears began buzzing, my blood percolating, and my eyes dilating while visions of Christian Slater danced in my head. Pump Up the Volume as Happy Harry Hardon, Interview with the Vampire, Bed of Roses, and Robin Hood. Robin Hood, say what? Yes I did. And so did Clinton, the teacher. Dead set on publicly mortifying me (I believe), he brought up Christian Slater's character from Robin Hood, the mysterious Will Scarlett.
Clinton knows of my affection. And although I applaud Clinton's candor about my very much private feelings to the class, I frankly, was elated at the mention of Mr. Slater!! He was talking about the birthright, and posed the question why Robin Hood was the chosen son instead of Will Scarlett. Twas a good thing the query wasn't extended my way, for I all I would have-could have-answered was, "I do love me some Christian Slater!" So now, it is Clinton's challenge and duty, to somehow tie the gospel to something Christian, pun intended. You know what they say, "something old, something blue, something Christian, something true!!"
P.S. For those allegations that he beat up that hooker...be them as they may, I don't care. Did anyone ever think she might have deserved it? Gotta keep the pimp hand strong, right? Just what is it about this 'bad boy' that keeps my other thoughts in such great company? Is it the ‘eyebrow’ thing? Most definitely. It’s the suggestion, the hint and the intrigue of a thousand possibilities.
