I am the first person to admit that I am not perfect. Far from it. I have made and still make mistakes that reverberate somewhere on the upper end of the Richter scale of wrong doings. But I know the difference between right and wrong when it comes to a doll of Jesus.
That's right. A doll. Of Jesus.
The good Lord, as tall as a Ken doll and just as built. I have issues with that. Do we need a Barbie sized Jesus? No. We don't.
Not at all.
Just as ridiculous as people who think they are special because they can guess the judges scores on Dancing with the Stars. Unnecessary. Completely not necessary. And doesn't make you special. Put your arms down. No one cares that you can do that.
Doll of Jesus. Not okay.
Still not okay.