One of my greatest regrets in this history of this page occurred yesterday, when my laziness denied me an "I told you so."
Over the weekend, I'd intended to predict that Michael Vick would soon, and very publicly, find Jesus. It's on page two of the Millionaire Athlete Revealed to Be an Irredeemable Piece of Shit Playbook, right after claiming victimhood and right before crying racism. And yesterday, he did just that. Yes, kids, Jesus recently helped Vick realize that his torturing, drowning, and electrocuting dogs on an ongoing basis for at least seven years was an "immature act," a "mistake."
Spin, spin, spin. Jesus has a lot more work to do.
And why does Jesus only appear after your friends have ratted you out to the government, anyway? He's the ambulance-chaser of deities.