Ask Lemmy

A pickled cucumber

One of those string pull animal sound thingies where the cow goes "moo" and the lamb goes "baa" and Judas goes "he's over there man".

Non fungible tokens

ancestry.com dna kit

It's actually my headcannon that the 3 wise men were 3 teenagers who accidentally time traveled. They blundered into the scene and felt bad and handed over 2 different scents of axe body spray and a handful of chuck E cheese tokens.

Given thier odd dress and incomprehensible language, they were assumed to be foreign and extremely wealthy. Not having any comprehension of the gifts they concluded they must be gold and exotic perfumes.

A key chain with his name, "Brian."

Private Investigator results. Divine conception sounds sus.

Fentanyl.

Weed

Baby Oil

I brought a nicely written certificate saying their Christmas present was that a donation had been made in their name. None of them could read. It didn't go over well.

Some weed .

Maury was the fourth wise man.

Weed. Buncha squares, those Wise Guys.

A paternity test

A DNA/patternity test…

Glock w a switch

A fake 10 Denari coin with an invitation to a prayer group on the back

I couldn't figure out what to give the kid. I mean, a king deserves only the best, and the King of Kings doubly so. But what you do get someone who literally has everything?! I mean, he made everything, well at least his dad did? I don't know.

So I'd been studying these earwigs that infest the graineries of my subjects and found this really cool one. The sculpting on its abdomen is just beautiful! So I named it after this kid and brought an amphoriskos of them with me to give to the little LORD.

When I knelt and placed the bottle in the kids manger, the mother just jumped up and snatched it, tossing it in a corner. She and the dad (lol) looked at me like I had grown a second head. I get that bugs aren't everyone's thing but they didn't even look at them! The next dung scarabs I find are getting named after his parents.

A quarter ounce of blow and four of the dirtiest Roman hookers I could find.

I was not only given a vision of where Jesus was born, but the extensive navigational and shipbuilding experience necessary to travel to South America to obtain coca 1000 years before the Vikings did. I was also granted a vision by god of the horticultural knowledge necessary to grow coca somewhere Jesus adjacent, and the advanced knowledge of chemistry necessary to extract it in its pure form.

I show up and basically stay up for three days talking about bread and drinking wine, occasionally excusing myself to bang my hookers, drunk off my ass on wine the entire time.

I'm eventually ejected from the manger, which really pisses me off. I hold a grudge.

The energy I have been given by excessive cocaine use allows me to rise through the ranks of Roman society, all the while holding a deep grudge, as the other wise men get all the credit for bringing their shitty gifts. One by one I start eliminating the people that were at the manger, aa my oversized cocaine-enhanced ego can't take the slight. Until one day I hear about some jerkoff running around calling himself king of the Jews, and my final revenge arrives at last.

My name? Pontuis Pilate.

A cross, I just like the design. I was told I was a little early by the fifth wise men but he just sorta crumbled into dust after saying that? Go figure.

a letter from the real father

A pack of disposable diapers. They understandably looked at me weird because they hadn't been invented yet.

I didn't shit the whole journey, then I crapped it all out into Christ's crib. You won't hear about it in the Bible, but the Bible carries on the spirit of the gift: it's a bunch of shit.

it's not what i brought, it's how badly i destroyed their toilet on his first birthday party.

One of those I support single moms stripper t-shirts. For carpenter joe of course.

I brought him a Camel, but apparently they were a Marlboro family.

Vaccines.

Come on people, do you want the son of God to get whooping cough?!

(For the record, I'm in favour of science-based medical care, including vaccines. I shouldn't have to say that. What's the world coming to?)

A $10 charity donation in his name

I bring him a claw bar (a train railroad spike remover).

This little drummer boy who would just NOT stop playing

The complete Sex in the City DVD collection.

I arrived well after the other wise men, sweating through my robes and wishing I’d taken a shorter route. I knelt beside the manger and laid out the lamb’s-wool scarf I’d meant to bring. It was soft, pure, perfect. Except the shearing accident had splattered it with dried blood. Mary stared. Joseph’s eyebrows climbed halfway to heaven.

“It’s prophetic symbolism,” I muttered. “You know… blood of the lamb?”

The silence was so heavy it felt like a fourth gift.

Panicking, I pulled a small winter squash from my pack and set it beside the scarf. “And this. For… later.”

The baby gurgled. I decided to take that as forgiveness.

A gift card.

A mother***king MERRY CHRYSLER