No matter where I go, they find me. I change my name, I dye my hair. I move to another state. But they're still out there. They know where I live.
They won't leave me alone.
And I suppose if anyone else sent me a hand-written card in the mail letting me know that I "haven't been forgotten," I might slightly freak out. It is stalkerish and makes me wonder what's so GD special about me that people keep knocking on my door, asking if I need help, telling me I can call them at any time of the night even though they've never met me. Telling me they'll tackle my disaster of a yard. For free. WTF.
And the answer is simple: Mormons are on crack.
There's no other reason that, after 10 years of my absence, they're still hunting me down at each new address, trying to make me feel as though I'm still part of the family.
But I guess that's how Jesus wants it.
Although, Jesus, let's think about this. Do you really want a sister who is so completely self-absorbed as to have almost 100 dresses in her closet? A sister who constantly refers to you as a bitch or whore-face, depending on what is going right in your life?
I think not, homeboy.
So, very dear, sweet Mormon "sister" who has been assigned the task of writing to me monthly, you don't need to apologize that the letter you wrote to me (that I wasn't expecting) was late. And I appreciate that you'll answer your phone any time of the night, that you're sleeping with it next to your bed in case I need anything.
You're sweet. And also, does it count if I call you at 11PM on a Friday night and I desperately need more tequila? Will you deliver it? Because I'm soo taking you up on the offer of help if that's the case.
Also, if you're willing to clean the pee that is constantly on my bathroom floor--why can't the GD boys make it in the bowl??-- and vacuum the patio when it's dirty, then I supposed we'd best meet face to face. Soon.
Or maybe that would be just totally using you. Which I have no problem with.
But.....I guess my point is, I got this. Religion is not my drug of choice. I'm getting through life by my own GD morals and values. I don't need an organization to build my moral compass for me.
I already know what life is all about.
Shoes. And sometimes hookers.
The end.
They won't leave me alone.
And I suppose if anyone else sent me a hand-written card in the mail letting me know that I "haven't been forgotten," I might slightly freak out. It is stalkerish and makes me wonder what's so GD special about me that people keep knocking on my door, asking if I need help, telling me I can call them at any time of the night even though they've never met me. Telling me they'll tackle my disaster of a yard. For free. WTF.
And the answer is simple: Mormons are on crack.
There's no other reason that, after 10 years of my absence, they're still hunting me down at each new address, trying to make me feel as though I'm still part of the family.
But I guess that's how Jesus wants it.
Although, Jesus, let's think about this. Do you really want a sister who is so completely self-absorbed as to have almost 100 dresses in her closet? A sister who constantly refers to you as a bitch or whore-face, depending on what is going right in your life?
I think not, homeboy.
So, very dear, sweet Mormon "sister" who has been assigned the task of writing to me monthly, you don't need to apologize that the letter you wrote to me (that I wasn't expecting) was late. And I appreciate that you'll answer your phone any time of the night, that you're sleeping with it next to your bed in case I need anything.
You're sweet. And also, does it count if I call you at 11PM on a Friday night and I desperately need more tequila? Will you deliver it? Because I'm soo taking you up on the offer of help if that's the case.
Also, if you're willing to clean the pee that is constantly on my bathroom floor--why can't the GD boys make it in the bowl??-- and vacuum the patio when it's dirty, then I supposed we'd best meet face to face. Soon.
Or maybe that would be just totally using you. Which I have no problem with.
But.....I guess my point is, I got this. Religion is not my drug of choice. I'm getting through life by my own GD morals and values. I don't need an organization to build my moral compass for me.
I already know what life is all about.
Shoes. And sometimes hookers.
The end.
2 comments:
Holy crap this is brilliant!
I've decided NOT to give my mother my new address for this very reason. I think she keeps ratting me out to her fellow do-gooders, AKA The Mormons.
I feel your pain. I'm an ex-Mormon (excommunicated at 5 years old! WOOO!) and my extended family is still full of them always trying to tell me what to do.
Also, I was on the phone with my best friend walking home from school the other night and I actually heard the missionaries assault her with a coupon for a free Book of Mormon and tell her that it would, "bless her life."
C'mon, people. Hounding and harassing is not the way to corral people into your cult.
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