Typing class and coping with brain death

It’s true. I just love to make fun of things, whether I like them or not.

For those of you who haven’t checked the page lately, this is another post in a series of posts where I’ve dumped all the stuff from my typing class onto my blog. So here’s the last part of our “summer camp” assignment: The newsletter.

Camp Jesus has been declared a success for the 15th straight year. Camp Jesus, named “the biggest miracle since the Resurrection” by priests everywhere, has had another fantastic year. Camp Jesus wishes to thank all its teachers, students, and God for the inspiration.

“It was a miracle for me,” said Johnny Bentham, 8. “At first I was like, well, Jesus is cool. Then I went to Camp Jesus and found out he’s awesome.” God Himself spoke to Johnny during a prayer class, and now Johnny can hear God “all the time”.

“He says things to me like what the weather’s going to be like tomorrow, or tells me to listen to a song and then plays it for me! Funny part is, I think He was talking to me all the time, but I wasn’t listening like Mommy says I should.” When asked if God was speaking to him right now, he said, “Naw, I can’t hear Him now. I can only hear Him near the radio.”

Another child with a life-altering experience was a little girl named Julie. Twelve-year-old Julie always dreamed of being a scientist, but Camp Jesus showed her the error of her ways.

“Now I know gravity is just God’s hands pulling down on me,” she explains. “Wow, he must be like an octopus or something! It’s really cool. And the cold and flu and stuff are caused by demons. Except for AIDS. That’s caused by being gay.”

All of the kids discovered that they love Jesus, and that Jesus loves them. Teachers played educational yet fun games with them, the most popular one being “Stay out of Hell.”

“The game goes like this,” explains one of the teachers. “You find a hill. All of the kids start at the top of the hill. Then the teachers shouts out something, like, ‘disrespecting your parents,’ and the kids have to raise their hand if they think it’s a sin. If they’re wrong, they go further down the hill, deeper into ‘Hell’. Although some of the kids figured out the trick, that everything’s a sin, even ‘being born’.”

Once again, Camp Jesus has proven itself to be not only a good time, but an educational time. Camp Jesus teaches your kids the fundamentals of being a fundamentalist.

Little Timmy, 7, summarized it best: “God loves me. That’s totally cool.”

If you want God to love your child, send money to Camp Jesus.

Send your child to Camp Jesus next year! We’re sure to have a good time in July 2009. Need more information? Check out our website at:

Or e-mail us at:

See you at Camp Jesus… or see you in Hell!


If you didn’t read the blog post before the blog post before this one, go read that blog post now. If you get lost, ask one of the monkeys for directions. Alternatively, one of the Internet tubes may be clogged. If that’s the case, just use a plunger.

The third part of our “summer camp” assignment involved making a flyer:

…if you missed my last post, go back and read it.

Our next assignment for our summer camp was to create a schedule. Here was Camp Jesus’s.

Camp Jesus – Schedule






Basic Converting




Janice Beck

Beginning Prayer




Greg Nguyen

What Would Jesus Do?:

An introduction to performing miracles




Allen Rivoli

10 Ways to Get to Hell Fast




Lisa Anwar

Painting with Jesus




Bob Ross

Science and Other Common Myths




Aidan Kearny

For those of you that haven’t been paying attention, lately I’ve been posting the stuff I’ve written in typing class. Predictably enough, I’m going to continue doing just that.

One of our last assignments was to come up with a fictional summer camp, and do several things with it. Mine turned out to be Camp Jesus. The first part of the assignment was to write a letter to be sent out to several people to ask them to teach at our summer camp:

Dear Occupant:

The school year is coming to a close, and parents everywhere are looking forward to shoving their children out the door into a summer camp of some kind. Camp Jesus has been providing parents stress relief for years now, and we are reaching out to the community to find more people passionate about working with and teaching kids. Everyone has a special talent or skill that can be shared with the younger generation, even you.

God calls to all sorts of people. He is the telemarketer of the spiritual world, trying to call each and every one of us to follow His word. Is He calling you? Or are you yet another disconnected phone in the suburban home of the Universe? If He is calling you to Camp Jesus, call us or e-mail us about what you would like to each. Pray about it and let us know what time you may be willing to take out of your schedule to do God’s work.

Camp Jesus is founded on the principle that even God thought His Son needed summer camp. Jesus’s few years on this planet were like camping out on another world to him. Even God needed some time away from His only Son. We are here to provide children their own camping experience, similar to Jesus’s, except without the miracles like walking on water and whatnot. Pray, and if God is ringing you up, let us know.


Christopher J. Lesiw

Jesus Camp Assistant and Spiritual Advisor

Another assignment we got in typing class was to write a letter to someone asking them if they’d like to see a particular show. I chose Young Frankenstein as the show because it was still running through my head at the time.

Here’s how the letter turned out:

Hey there. Glad to hear you got out of jail. Stab a customer a couple of times and suddenly the law’s all over you, huh? Go figure. Anyway, to celebrate your freedom, I figured we might try to get tickets to Young Frankenstein sometime soon. Don’t worry, it’s not a horror movie or anything – I remembered about your “weak bladder” condition and all that. And don’t worry, nobody knows except me, my closest friends, and everyone on that Internet forum I was on the other day. But seriously, that one story when you were on the roller coaster just had to be told. Once you dried off and apologized to the kids, I’m sure you had a good laugh about it too, underneath that panic-stricken exterior.

At any rate, Young Frankenstein is a musical. A Mel Brooks musical, in fact. Remember The Producers and those great songs like “Prisoners of Love”? No offense meant by that, or anything. But Young Frankenstein is about Victor von Frankenstein’s grandson, Fredrick Frankenstein. He’s in denial about being a part of the Frankenstein line, and even insists on pronouncing his last name “Franken-steen” to further separate himself from his family history. But he gets sucked into it eventually, with a lot of dancing and singing and witty lines, until he builds a giant, seven-foot-tall, rampaging, green monster. On a completely different subject, are you still on those medications? Just wondering. The doctor said not to go off them, you know. Just figured I’d mention.

Take a look at http://www.youngfrankensteinthemusical.com/ and let me know if you’re interested. I’d really love to go with you, and some of my friends, especially one or two in law enforcement. Anyway, talk to you later, and try to stay out of the cooler, okay?

As I stated in a previous post, typing class is boring. Considering I already said that in a previous post, I’m going to be lazy and not say it again.

Still, after being in there for several months, apparently some of the stuff I came up with as an attempt to escape brain death was funny. Some people are looking to get the files, as a matter of fact. Well, here you go.

It all started with our first assignment, when we had to design our folders. This isn’t really particularly funny, but it introduces Bo-Jangles, a virtual cat very near and dear to me. It also contains traces of randomness.

Thanks to our school’s requirements, I am stuck in a typing class in my senior year of high school. Me! Typing!

We have to use this dreadful program straight from the pits of the software division of Hell called “MicroType Pro”. First of all, it’s from about 1990. Computer programs are outdated in weeks, if not days, and we’re using an eighteen-year-old typing program. Secondly – and this is a real drawback for those of us in the United States trying to learn how to type – it doesn’t speak English.

It teaches us about how we need to meet our “top goals”. It talks about “keying” instead of “typing”. Once you hit the exclamation mark lesson, it scatters that dreadful excuse for punctuation all over the practice sentences, as though it’s trying to falsely cheer you up after you’ve wasted hours upon hours on the other 20-odd lessons. It drills ideas into your head about being punctual and typing quickly and practice.

The only thing that saves me – indeed, any of us seniors – from brain death is the Internet. I have to tell you, games like this one have never been so entertaining. And Solitaire? Hell, I’ve never seen a more fun game in my life. I even know all the keyboard shortcuts and cheats. Anything at all beats keying our top goals for the day.

Maybe someday I’ll post the stuff I write in there. That’s the only really fortunate thing about the class – you’re graded on how well you can use Word, not what you end up typing into it. If it wasn’t for that, I’d probably bash my head into a computer screen.

Screw top goals.