I mean, it's not like this is a repost which I can dust off and fling at you like three day old fish. Similar to a selfish lover, I need to get in and get out.
|These things don't clean themselves, you know.|
|"OMIGOD! OMIGOD! OMIGOD! He said 'dork'!!"|
|"You've already wasted a couple of paragraphs! |
Get TO it, ya moeron!!"
A Goyim's Perspective
Now with Alternate Spelling!
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, the Rebel Alliance was....wait....nuts! Wrong notes. Hang on.
A long time ago (still the same galaxy, so we're cool), Syrian Greeks invaded Palestine/Judea/Israel/Somewhere Over There. They ruled the local people with an iron fist and insisted they adhere to their dictates, whether it be worshipping pagan gods or eating BLTs at diners.
|Because they were Greek. I hope everybody got that.|
Anyhoo, the locals got seriously hacked off about it and threw off the shackles of their masters (I'm not sure how that sentence would go over with my Creative Writing teachers, but screw them).
|"Very rude. Knuckles, if you please, Mr. Penwasser."|
They tossed the Greeks out of their country, telling them to return to where they belonged, like New Jersey.
|Because there's a lot of diners in New Jersey. |
It's tough having to keep explaining the jokes.
When the Jewish people entered the temple to set up shop again and toss out the Baklava Idols, they realized that it got dark at night. But, they only had enough oil to light their candle/menorah for only one night.
Since the local gas station was closed, they knew they were in a real pickle.
|Complicated by the fact that gas stations |
wouldn't be invented for another couple thousand years or so.
However, the oil lasted for eight crazy nights!
|"What the f...that's our line!"|
|And convince Schlomo to put on the Dreidel Costume |
again when he went into a diner.