I was a bit…harsh…with certain individuals last time, and that might have been…an overreaction…on my part to being jilted by Aphrodite recently. I’m not saying that those I smote with horrible curses didn’t deserve it. I’m not saying I’m sorry. It’s just…
(Ring, ring) Hello? Odin? Wait, before you say anything, I will send you some money to fix up that damage from my assault against your realm. And a get-well card to Freyja and Freyr, too. It wasn’t my grandest moment heaving them both over a cliff into the hungry maws and well-armed hands of my army of manticore-mounted ape-demons. I know Thor is already over me raining brimstone and fire on his head, but buying a 24-pack of some good microbrew can get him to forgive anything short of sleeping with Sif. Are you and I cool?
Oh, hell, this friggin’ mortal Deacon Blue is hounding me again about answering questions for his readers…hold on, Odin…
I, the great and powerful Hummus Idol, will now entertain your questions and grant unto you the wisdom that only a pile of very angry crushed chickpeas, tahini, olive oil and other seasonings can offer. Don’t let the smiling face fool you. I am a fridge-cold killah. Bow down before me, speak your question, and incline your ears or any other convenient part of your anatomy as I spew my advice upon thee.
Q: OK, Hummus Idol, I’ve done my part to help continue this nonsense that Barack Obama isn’t really an American citizen and therefore cannot be president. Glad to do it, after all, since Obama isn’t the kind of black man I want to see taking the spotlight anyway. Not that this crazy plan is going to work, but if it puts a tarnish on the uppity bastard, I’m happy. You should be too. I’ve held up my part of the bargain, and then some. So where do we stand? – Justice Clarence Thomas, U.S. Supreme Court
A: You’ve done a good job, Clarence. Your white peers will be very proud of you. You’re just the kind of black man the conservative Republicans can appreciate. Unlike Colin Powell or Condie Rice, for example, you aren’t saddled with anything burdensome like any trace of a spine or any glimmer of integrity. I must say, I’m impressed you did this for me or, rather, the nice folks who sold their souls to me to make Obama’s life miserable. So, after taking your soul in return for getting you through those confirmation hearings back in ’91, I hereby return it to you for your favor here.
Of course, if you sell it back to me, I can get you the Chief Justice slot, even with Obama in power. You know where to reach me.
Q: How do I get blood stains out of suede? – Oscar K. Sandoval, The Bronx
A: I’d say your bigger problem would be the fingerprints you left behind at the scene of the crime. But if fashion is still your number-one concern, try dabbing a little hydrogen peroxide on the stains with a cotton ball.
Q: Look, I should still have some credit with you from our deal back in 1995. When should I expect you to get me out of this mess and back home where I belong? – O.J. Simpson
A: If you had stayed your ass at home like any smart sonofabitch who got off of killing his wife would have (should have take some tips from Robert Blake), you wouldn’t be looking at 15 years in prison, you idiot. And credit? Credit. Pardon me while I laugh my nonexistent ass off. Do you know how much work it was to sway a jury not to convict you the first time? Do you know how hard it was to get the prosecution and the investigating officers to implode and to make people think your legal team was making sense? If you think you have any credit, you are sorely overestimating the value of your soul. Now, if it was Jackie Robinson’s soul we were talking about. Or a Joe Montana/Jerry Rice combo. Or Michael Jordan. Or Wayne Gretzky. Or the Williams sisters. Well, in those cases, there might be some credit left over. Frankly, I think you owe me. Throw in the soul of one of your kids and maybe I can keep your cellmate off your ass during your stretch.
Q: Satan’s at the top of my hit list, dude, but I’m going to shred your ass just like I’ve shredded with my skateboard. You’re going down, Hummus; you and all your kind. I’ve got a bitchin’ reality show called “The Uprising” where I’m going to go up to total stangers and share the good news of the Lord. I’m so gonna win a ton of souls for Christ. You’re going down, loser. – Christian Hosoi
A: Most people don’t follow the careers of pro skateboarders, I’m sorry to inform you. So, you’re not nearly as relevant as you want to think you are. Outside of the skateboarding scene, even Tony Hawk doesn’t rate on anyone’s radar unless they play XBox, PlayStation or Wii. And most folks react badly to being confronted on the street, uninvited, with the gospel. But hey, go for it. Try to hand me my ass. I’m sure you can do more damage than ten soap-box preachers together in terms of turning people away from Jesus. You’ll be doing me a favor…oh, hell, you should see the text message Satan just sent me about you. Shit, you could be worth a few laughs, son. Hope your show hangs on for a few seasons.
Q: My house has been on the market for nearly a year now, and the economy is going to crap. I didn’t want to do this, but if I sell you my soul, can you get the damned thing to move before I go broke paying a mortgage on a place I don’t even live in anymore? – Kevin Armelflasterbacher, Santa Feltcher, Calif.
A: Sell me your soul and I can get it sold in one month at half of what you paid for it.
Look, I’m a miracle worker, but I can only do so much. This market sucks right now.
Q: I was one of the people trying to rip down the door of that Wal-Mart on Black Friday, and I think I may have stepped on the head of that guy we trampled. I feel bad and all, but those sales were sweet, and I really, really, really needed a TV for my bathroom for those really long toilet visits. And you know, the fat fuck really should have gotten out of our way, but still, I hope I wasn’t the one who killed him for good. Um, how bad is this for me? – Feeling Just A Little Guilty, Mineola, N.Y.
A: The good news is that the police aren’t going to find you or link you to the Wal-Mart worker’s death. But you’re going to go to hell for it all the same. On the bright side, you’ll get to bring your TV with you.
(Hummus Idol does not speak as a representative or agent of Deacon Blue or anyone else associated with this blog. In fact, Hummus Idol doesn’t exist. He is wholly and completely a manufactured character that acts as an angry facade behind which Deacon Blue can hide for petty entertainment purposes and for times when he needs to be extra crusty and get shit off his chest. That said, you can feel free to shower the Hummus Idol with offerings of jewelry, money or fine art…he will make sure it goes someplace where it is needed.) View complete list of Humus Idol entries here.