A warning to anyone that is mildly sensitive in any way, this is an extremely offensive blog. If you keep reading, it’s your own damned fault.
Being the daughter of a pastor, I sometimes joke around that I have extra heaven credits or a more than normal amount of “freebies” with regards to my sinning level. Also, since my great grandfather was a pastor as well (I just sometimes forget this), sometimes I just say I’m getting grandfathered in. There’s been enough godliness in my family to even out my heathen ways.
But you know what. That’s all a façade. I’m going to hell. The express elevator. No stopping. Those of you who’ve known me long enough are probably nodding your head in agreement with these statements, but I just thought I would take this time to enumerate the reasons why I am, in fact, going to hell.
I have parked across the Safeway parking lot and done a dodge and weave for 10 minutes just to avoid the sweet little mentally handicapped girl that does the bagging/wanders the aisles. I’m sorry, but I just do not have time to listen to her tell me about the conversation she had with a dog/cow/goat the other day. Plus, all her impressions all sound the same.
I frequently wait until the last possible moment when turning left at an intersection just to freak the oncoming driver out. Sometimes I even go a little straighter than I should just to make them think I’m driving right at them.
The alternate trivia team name I came up with was “Coat Hanger Birth Control.”
I once participated in tincture while I had a horrible head cold. And it wasn’t because I felt I needed the body of Christ that badly. I just kinda wanted a sip or two of wine to take the edge off.
I used to eat ALL of the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms cereal we would get as kids and leave nothing but the crappy wheat bits for my siblings.
I coined the phrase, “Jersey Cunt Punch.”
When asked to do my best retard impression, I said, “I can’t, my eyes aren’t puffy enough today.”
Well crap. You know how you say something several times a week, but then you go to write about it and all memory of the actions ceases to exist? Yeah. That’s what’s happening to me right now. This is going to have to be continued, because I know this is just the tip of the iceberg.
The going to hell iceberg.