ancestry.com dna kit

A key chain with his name, "Brian."

Some weed .

Maury was the fourth wise man.

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".

A DNA/patternity test…

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.

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.

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

A $10 charity donation in his name

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.

This little drummer boy who would just NOT stop playing

A paternity test

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.

My mixtape

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.

A cross necklace.

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

Private Investigator results. Divine conception sounds sus.

An extended car warranty. In 2000 years he'll thank me.

The complete Sex in the City DVD collection.

Diapers. I brought something that new parents actually need, but the story tellers thought it was boring.

Fentanyl.

Weed, maybe a kalashnikov

Numbing cream. I said it's a surprise tool that'll help him later, but no one bought it at the time. Little did they know he'd really need it at the end of his life

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 copy of the anarchists cookbook.

Look, I had a lot going on, so I kind of stole some flowers from someone's yard on the way, but the other wise men caught me. It's bullshit!

Glock w a switch

Jesus was born in Texas. He needs a hamburger.

Food and water, and a plush bunny. Somehow I feel that they drew the line at the food and water.

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.

Cut out... maybe I brought something inapropriate, something not fitting the narrative. I think I am bringing a blade, meant to show decisiveness. But on top of being a weapon it was roman made. ayyyyy

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

A salami log.

Baby Oil

Weed

Non fungible tokens

Modern carpenter hand tool. Then maybe he'll become a world renowned carpenter instead of mingle with idiots that crucified him.

Booze.

A second baby Jesus.

Hey, let's keep it baby-appropriate. I'd bring him the entire DVD box set collection of Baby Einstein videos but they'd reject my offering because DVD players & electricity didn't exist back then, and they wouldn't understand the concept of vegetating while staring at a flat surface on the wall for hours ignoring all your bodily needs & ignoring all your chores & obligations & family & all human interaction.

Pumpkin pie

Labuubuu. What the crap is a baby gonna do with some frankincense anyway?

Jacks, and a Lite Brite.

Richard Dawkins “the God Delusion”

A bible.

Common Sense.

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.

A mother***king MERRY CHRYSLER

A pickled cucumber

Cyanide.

Uranium-235.

Opium

The Bubba photos.

Weed. Buncha squares, those Wise Guys.

Something he could really use: A book full of web links to articles about "how to start your own religion".

Perhaps I should have just given him a Post-It note that said "Dude, just use ChatGPT"!

A Glock and some ammo, got thrown out when I tried to demonstrate it, apparently I distrubed the peace...

A circumcision? :3 feel free to delete my comment I just don't think it's thought about enough

Guikt for the eventual damage done in his name.

Health insurance