Across from a kielbasa stand down the street from my apartment, the Poles have crucified Jesus three times. They've put up a fishnet to keep The Three Messiahs from escaping and mauling the passersby. When I walk past on my way to class, I am sometimes tempted to toss in a few peanut shells or some popcorn, but there is a sign in Polish that I suspect is advising me not to feed the Jesuses.
