I've been thinking long and hard about this one
Well, I've slept on it. Religion is a subject quite close to me, but it is fair to say Christianity and I have a somewhat complicated relationship. My Mum is religious, but not so bad to try and convert me all the time. And she is accepting of other religions, which as Christians go is something of a miracle in and of itself. That and she also tolerates those of a different sexual orientation. Live and let live, she says.

But, to myself, as these stories often ramble. I don't have a problem with religion myself. I can see the benefits that it brings, such as community outreach projects to the local teenage population who have nothing else to do, or nowhere else to go. I have to wonder if that thing is something of a lifesaver for some. But for others, well we're all aware of what the various problems are.

But, like I said, it's a complicated relationship. Sometimes, I'm planning to go and have a little fun with the people who run the Alpha Course. Others, I'm happily running the sound desk in the church round the corner.

Other times, I'm happily reading Dawkins. An extrememely intelligent man, by all accounts. Sometimes he makes me laugh, and sometimes, well. He just comes across as rather offensive. But I think that's another debate for another time. Although perhaps the title of "Darwin's Pitbull" isn't altogether undeserved.

However, when it comes to people like Fred Phelps, I'm glad I'm not on the same continent as idiots like him. Although he was justifiably banned from coming to England, I would have loved to meet him in person and have a few choice words with him. Maybe even see if TRL's fundie-flummoxing guide works.

I really want to believe in God- really, I do. But I'm not convinced that Christianity is the only path to wisdom. Nor am I convinced that any religion deserves that title. And there are all idiots in any quarter who seem to have forgotten that little idea of live and let live. Jesus and a lot of other religious figures had the right idea. It's just a crying shame that the message appears to have become garbled.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 9:20, 1 reply)

Hmm...
I think my name gives away how little I care for religion.
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 9:02, 1 reply)

I can laugh about it now.
A few years ago, I used to host/administer a Forum for general chatting.

Some of my members came across a Religious Forum and infiltrated it, posing as God Fearing/Loving members who had lost their way and needed guidance.

Some of the advice given was hilarious and responses were always linked to on my Forum giving us all a great laugh.

One day the Admin of the Religious Forum started getting suspicious and discovered that some of his new members were actually mocking his genuine members and he set out to find out from whence they had come.

Which obviously led him to my Forum. Well, he managed to find some posts that my members had written, ridiculing God, the Religious Forum and in some cases we were joking about blowing up van's etc ........ as you do.

The next day, my forum had disappeared. I contacted my host and they forwarded on an email they had received.

The email was from the Admin of the Religious Forum, it had been forwarded to Police, FBI and both parties Hosting Companies.

It claimed that I was a terrorist and that if they read my forum they would see we were making plans to blow up buildings using vans and had plans to take down all religious groups.

I had been put on a terrorist watch list, while it was being investigated! My forum had been closed and access to it removed for everyone except the police and FBI.

Thankfully it only took a day to convince them that I wasn't a terrorist and that it was just forum members having a laugh and they restored my forum.

I have not been told if I have been removed from the Watch List yet or not, but am always very nervous when I try to leave the country and the Passport Control Moles look at me strangely.

Didn't help that before I shaved off my beard, I was told I looked like the "Shoe Bomber". *sighs*
(Demoniac, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 8:54, 2 replies)

Blasphemy
I hate priests
One day, sitting at the computer and working hard, bringing money home to support my family (actually, I was playing Counterstrike till my eyes popped out, along with my mouse's batteries), there was a knock on my door.
I don't mind it, hoping someone else will take care of it. At the second knock, I realize I'm all alone and my dog, smart as he is, can't open the door without the use of opposable thumbs, and also can't tell whoever was disturbing me to bugger off.
So, I get up to see who is disturbing my hard work.

When I get to the door, I smell incense. I don't have cancer to smell things that aren't there, or maybe I have and I don't know it yet, but maybe my neighbor has once again burned incense in the staircase to exorcise bad spirits, Satan, banshees, the yellow-beaked ground hog, Colorado beetles, termites, (real estate) sharks and me, the believer of believers with the sensitivity to smells that are strong and/or are related to the church. I think nothing of it and open the door to see who is so insistent when it's clear that there's nobody home (who would want to open the door). Surprise! In my doorstep is a priest with two blokes behind him (they were the deacons who were carrying the money taken from sinner old ladies).

"Good morning!" he says, stepping inside.
"And a good morning to you, Father" I say smiling, thinking this was going to get funny.
"I came with the-"
"Yeah, I know." I cut him off. "With the tax on stupidity and gullibility, I know, I know. But you need to know that I've been attending school lately and I got brighter. Plus, I went to see the head doctor and I don't have imaginary friend any more. So..." I point him to the door.
"What imaginary friends" asks the priest, letting his basil powered holy hand lower.
"Well, you know, Bob, Johnny, God... People that don't exist, whom I was toking to from time to time when I was alone"
"Blasphemy! How can you say such a thing?"

"Blasphemy - schlasphemy, I can and I will."
"God exists!"
"I know he exists and he needs money. All the old ladies tell me."
"I'll talk to your mother" says he while leaving the house.
"Why? You have to pay your monthly rates and it hurts losing people that chip in?" I ask while closing the door in his face, even if I saw he had turned to drop me another line.

I went back to the computer, trying to resume the "work" from which I was so rudely interrupted, when my phone rings.
"Damn it!" I think aloud "Can't someone have some peace and relaxation in this house?"
On the phone, mummy dearest, screeching like a banshee.
"You threw the priest away from our house and you've been rude to him? He told everyone in the building! The neighbor from 7th floor called and told me that people are going to talk how I wouldn't receive the priest in my home!"
"Wait a minute..." I say, trying to squeeze in a few words.
"I'm not waiting any minute! You go and bring him back! You know where the money are, you give it to him and tell him to bless the apartment! I will not be the talk of the building" she says, hanging up.

"Well, there goes my work" I say, going out to seek the priest.
I found him on the 8th floor, blessing an old lady while she was spitting money like an ATM.
"Father, please come and bless our home..." I mumble looking down.
"You were very rude with the Father!" says the hag, spewing venom out of her eyes.
"I know. I am repenting" I say ironically while turning to the priest, who is looking at me triumphantly, probably thinking he can now pay the leasing for the newly acquired limousine.

"Coming, Father?"
"Yes, I shall come" he says, proudly.
"And will you forgive me?" I ask penitently.
"I shall forgive you"
"OK. How much is the forgiving" I say, taking the money out of my pocket.
His jaw drops, not knowing what to say.
"I should think it's less than an old lady who has sinned all her life, right?" I ask, looking at the hag.

"Maybe I can pay in rates, just as the old ladies pay for divine forgiveness?"
(vladk2k, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 8:53, Reply)

Babies are evil
Me and the Lord have got an understanding... I don't hassle him, he doesn't hassle me.
But organised religion gets on my tits so much, and I'm very vocal about it, sometimes embarrasingly so (Lady Scaramanga's cousin apologised to me for making me go to church on wedding day... a felt a bit bad about that).

Anyway... a couple of years ago, a friend of Lady Scaramanga was getting her baby baptised, and we were invited. What I wasn't told was this was no 'wet the baby's head' in-and-out. This was a full-on Catholic ceremony.

My problem with catholicism, in my probably mis-informed way, is that it's all about being crap and evil, and you spend your life proving to God that you're NOT crap and evil. That sounds a bit shit to me.

So, the ceremony is going along, and Lady S is squeezing my hand tighter and tighter to try and get me not to heckle the vicar (something, I've never done, though I have taken a couple to task for a chat afterwards), and the guy's banging on and I swear everytime he said something like 'evil' or 'demons' the fucker looked right at me.
We get to prayers. I don't pray, I don't bow my head... the fucker stares daggers at me, and I stare right back.

Then the final straw... Baby's first Confession. A six-month old baby.
What the FUCK has a six-month old baby got to confess? Impure thoughts about The Midnight Garden characters? Touching itself while going poo-poo?

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and tried to leave. Lady S grabbed my hand and told me in no uncertain terms, I was going to sit there, keep my mouth shut, smile politely... and then have some free beer afterwards.

I was like that bloke in Scanners for another 15 minutes... steam coming out of my ears.

What's so annoying is that the couple who's baby it was are so lovely (though I did once argue with her about private education which was unpleasant) that I had to keep up my charade of 'oh what a lovely cweremony' for a further two hours before we could go home, where my head promptly exploded and I was sent straight to hell.
( Joe Scaramanga with a G-double-O-D vibration, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 8:48, 2 replies)

I was a choirboy at school..
Actually, I am still quite sound in the canticles.
(Vic Flange, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 8:15, Reply)

God
An imaginary friend for adults.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 8:14, Reply)

It's almost 1am here.
I just got done eating a massive amount of shrimp fettucine alfredo, am finishing off a bottle of wine and just finished a tub of Hagen Daaz ice cream (Baileys flavour).
On my lap is my cute little cat, purring away like hell. My apartment is clean and tidy. I have a glass of wine in front of me knowing I have an easy day at work tomorrow. My cat is purring away happily.

That's heaven.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:43, 3 replies)

Always look on the bright side of life.
Religious Education. Senior school.

I thought I'd left my days of being force-fed religion behind me when I moved up from Catholic junior school to a non-religious grammar school at the age of 11.

What I didn't plan on was Religious Education being part of the syllabus. For 3 years.

The only highlight of this 40 minute weekly lesson came in the end of year exam.

"What was written on a sign that was nailed above Christ when he was crucified."

The answer, as any good Catholic boy will tell you, is "INRI" which basically translates to "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews."

What it did NOT stand for, as one 1st Year pupil put, was "Always look on the bright side of life."
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:31, 3 replies)

My mum was quite the religious nutter.
When I started my periods, she told me I was dirty, and only girls that did disgusting things with lads got periods. I was still a virgin, FFS!

Mind you, I soon got her back after the school disco. She got stabbed by the kitchen knives, and all I had to do was think about it.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:27, 3 replies)

Church
As a pupil at a Catholic school, I knew my local priest and he knew me. Not intimately, we'll save the paedo jokes for another reply, but well enough insomuch that the priest would come to classes and know every child by name, and be able to talk about their families with them.

So when I stopped going to Sunday mass when I was in the early Juniors, it didn't occur to me that I would be missed.

Mum and dad had divorced and I was living with mum. She wasn't well and didn't need the stress of anything extra on her shoulders. So I told her that I would go to church on my own. It was only a two minute walk away and I'd be safe getting to and from there, so she reluctantly agreed.

So I would wander down to the church, arrive five minutes late to avoid having to talk to the priest, mope about in the entrance to the church listening to my walkman, then dodging off five minutes before the end of proceedings before anyone could grab me and start boring me with lessons of the Lord, or asking after my family.

Ok, so I wasn't actively taking part in proceedings, but I WAS at church, so I wasn't doing anything wrong in my mind.

A few weeks after I'd started this, I was walking to school, accompanied by my mum. As we passed the church, the priest was outside talking to one of his flock. I kept my head down, but as soon as he saw me and mum, he broke off his conversation and asked how we were.

Mum engaged in polite conversation before Father Christopher turned to me and asked: "So Dan, why haven't I seen you in church recently?"

Mums eyes swivelled to me. After all, I'd told her - correctly - that I'd been to church. I'd stretched the truth and omitted the part about being uninvolved with things, but mum was rightly confused.

Now I was in a quandry. I now knew that not taking part was a bit naughty. There's no way that mum would believe I'd been if no-one had seen me, and Father Chris certainly wouldn't. So how could I explain why he hadn't seen me recently?

I smiled the best smile I could manage and gave the only explanation I could think of:

"You're not looking hard enough, Father."

And for some reason, it was accepted as a good enough answer to avoid being shouted at.
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:26, Reply)

Slighty rambling, I apologise!
As a child, I was raised as a Catholic. Being innocent, and not prone to mischief, I suppose I was the ideal type of kid to be in a catholic school.

I was polite to the teachers, I was well behaved, I had no problem doing what I was told when I was told and I even had fear for my sins, truly believing that Christ had died for my sins.

By the age of about seven, I started to learn to be an altarboy. This meant more involvement in the church, so as well as going to mass during the day with the school, I was there after school and obviously on Sundays.

Around the same time as starting as an altarboy, my parents decided to divorce. I don't remember this having an immediate effect on me. In my mind, life went on and although it was a blow, things were ok.

My poor old mum, however, says that it tore her apart to see my schoolwork suffer, and although I never became a problem child, it was obvious to everyone that something big had happened in my life.

I remember understanding that my mum and dad needed to be apart. My dad was a sod at the best of times, and everyone told me that it was for the best. With hindsight (and the knowledge it brings), mum was in a bad way - on the verge of having a huge heart attack which, combined with an over-active thyroid and other problems she had, probably would have killed her.

I also remember the church not being too supportive. The Catholic church has old fashioned values, remember? And divorce is very much frowned upon. No matter how it was for the best, it was still wrong.

So I quit being an altarboy and stopped going to church altogether. I still had to go with the school, but weekday evenings and weekends were my own again.

I was experiencing resentment for the first time in my life, and it was bitter tasting.

Several years of education are hard to wash away though, and with years still ahead of me at a catholic primary school, and with me at an impressionable age, I find myself now as a 31 year old with mixed feelings towards religion.

I believe in God. Even though the intellectual, scientific side of my brain realises He is more likely to NOT exist than exist.

I think the bible is a good book that has stories teaching generally good morales, but is highly unlikely to be true, especially with some parts being written 300 years after others.

I think it's insane that I can live my life to the best of my ability - Be good, treat others well, follow the Ten Commandments wherever possible - yet when I die, if I haven't confessed my sins recently, I am likely not to go straight to Heaven, yet you can have a child rapist or murderer that confesses his sins on his deathbed who is then forgiven and allowed in to Heaven.

I don't understand why the bible contradicts itself yet still sticks by whatever point it tries to make.

I don't understand how a huge book like the bible can be translated from latin to English - many years ago before it could be proof-read - and yet no-one can admit that there could be one (just one) translation error.

I don't understand the stories of God testing the faith of his followers (of which there is a fantastic story of a B3tan's battle with his faith where he was taught this story at Sunday school. I apologise as I can't find the story, but someone please link it in the replies as it is brilliant and if anything needs to be reposted on this QOTW)

So here I am. 31 years old. Believer in God. Don't go to church. Generally believe that if I'm good I'll be rewarded when I die and if I'm bad I'll be punished when I die. I believe the dictionary definition of a church being "a group of people" rather than a place of worship. I mistrust the faith that I believe in. And I believe in Darwin's Theory of Evolution.

Yours, Confused of Chelmsford.
( SeasonTicketless is too often the statue, and rarely the pigeon., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:13, 4 replies)

this might not be the best...
But I'm sure someone has heard of the game left for dead right? well in one part of it there's a sign that says GOD IS DEAD,after a friend saw that he was like "well that sucks".



yeah pretty dumb, but Its all I have.
(Leoninus "Never lick a fresh turd on a hot day.", Fri 20 Mar 2009, 7:04, Reply)

(Not) Jehovah's Witnesses
When I was young and argumentative, a very dignified group of very large, well dressed, West Indian ladies came a-knocking on my door.

Now you see, JW's believe in the whole Bible, warts and all. One neat and less well known factoid to use on fundamentalists is that, after Judgement Day, the 'Company of The Lord' shall number 144,000. This being made up from 12000 from each of the 12 tribes of Israel.

I pointed out to these nice polite ladies, that I found it hard to believe they were all Jewish, and therefore all would be excluded from paradise by virtue of their racial heritage.

It was like kicking puppies.

S
( simbosan liked your link on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 6:27, 3 replies)

comedian John Safran
went doorknocking in Salt Lake City, asking Mormons if they were interested in atheism.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 6:11, 1 reply)

Reading the many tales of door knockers reminds me...
Of the time some Mormons came to my house and my dad invited them in to talk about his recent trip to Utah (Mormon central) and show them his slides for about an hour.
They must have a black list because that was the last time we ever had random God botherers.
Mind you he did a similar thing with Greenpeace, making them wait at the door while he went off to get his (and no, this is not a joke) white sealskin snowboots.
More horrified looks I have never seen.
( difficultchild, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 4:06, 2 replies)

More a hope than a belief...
That God has a sense of humour.
Otherwise I'm probably in trouble for having myself ordained by The Church Of The Christianship (yes, Christianship) Ministries of Fresno California and performing my first baptism in the third row of a church a few weeks back with a bottle of Mount Franklin water and a mate's baby (while his wife's back was turned).
What can I say? It was a long ceremony we'd been dragged to and the pair of us got bored.
Later this year I'm doing a wedding.
I've rather stupidly been given carte blanche by the happy couple - I'm thinking Jedi robes and a rambling speech about love, togetherness and bounty hunters might be the go.
Any suggestions gratefully accepted.
( difficultchild, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 4:00, 2 replies)

if people worshipped kittens,
when religious people knocked on your door it'd be adorable instead of annoying.


(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 3:50, 2 replies)

Church of the latter day christ chaps.
Two of them patrol our town, they're from some mad town in America and tend to occasionaly stop me in the street.

They asked me for my address but i settled for swapping mobile numbers.

I now send them a text message every few weeks, sometimes with christian, atheist, hindu, islamic or buddist verses and quotes and phrases.

I also go one step further when i'm drunk and send them shit like 'THE EGG HAS LANDED'.

I then ignore all calls from that number.

Result? Dunno but makes me smile.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 3:43, Reply)

I don't mind religion really...
... anything that's good for a loud discussion over a few shandies works for me. However, one or two mentions of school "Religious Education" classes have reminded me of something.

Yeears ago - you'd need a heavy-duty wavy-line-machine for this - we had RE with Mrs G, lovely lady and a good home economics teacher (and one of my best mate's Mum, too). We did (unlike in previous years with the red-faced pop-eyed Mr L, the poster child for hyperthyroidism) actually cover some other religions, which was interesting, but what set it apart from other classes is that we spent nearly a whole term being read "I Am David". Not reading it ourselves, because there was only one copy, it was read to us. This meant that as long as an appropriate amount of brainwidth was devoted to jotting down a few notes to answer any questions, the rest of the time could be spent listening to what was actually a pretty good reading of a pretty good story while doodling, writing offensive notes or designing computer software (I was *that* kid). However, that wasn't the best bit. Oh no.

No, the best - and this probably won't go well for me with St Peter - was that most of the religious kids in my class were deeply Free Presbyterian. These folks make wahabbi Muslims look like happy-clappies. They didn't much like discussing other religions. The fact that our young David of the story was Jewish went down with them like a hotdog van at a synagogue. No, you shouldn't laugh.

Length? Forty minutes of listening to stories about an evil Godless heathen who killed Jesus, for them.
(gordonjcp, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 3:11, Reply)

The last time I felt that maybe, just maybe, someone was watching over me...
A few months ago, I was helping some friends move house. We loaded up the car and piled in, taking a B-road to his new house. I hadn't seen them for a while, so we got to chatting as I drove, and soon we were laughing away like loons. All of a sudden, I noticed about 50 feet in front of me, a car had stopped to turn right at a crossroads. There was oncoming traffic so he had fully stopped, I hadn't been concentrating (I've driven that road a thousand times and it's the first time I've seen a car turn into that little dirt track) so there I was, three of my friends in a car loaded with assortd bits and bobs, speeding towards a parked car at seventy miles per hour.

I gently but firmly applied the brakes. No, what I should say is I jammed my foot to the floor. Nothing happened. The tyres made an odd whining noise and we slowed about 1mph. I couldn't overtake, there was oncoming traffic. We were, to put it mildly, fucked.

Then something weird happened. I just went totally calm, took my foot off the brake and steered around the passenger side of the car. I hit a high kerb at 50mph, but nothing happened. We travelled along the grass for a few feet and back onto the road.

This should not have happened. I should have careered into the back of that car. I should have gone flying when I hit that kerb. I should have skidded on the grass and flipped the car. No-one said a word for what felt like ages, until we came to the next roundabout. I stopped and turned to find my three friends staring at me. We all burst out laughing, but I think we all knew how close we'd just came.

Now I know, it's just a load of old shit, I was just lucky. But there really is nothing like the feeling of realising had you done anything even slightly differently, you'd probably be dead. And for the life of me I don't know why I felt so calm when it happened, because thinking about it even now makes me shit in my pants.

God? If it was, he's a better driver than I am.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 1:38, 2 replies)

No3L 's post reminded me of this..
I'm a dyslexic devil worshipper.

I sold my soul to santa.





musta bindun before
(Mensa Reject has gone out, I'll be back on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 1:20, Reply)

We are all just 'frisbees'
I always liked the idea of being 'Frisbee-tarian' in the belief that, when I die, my soul will simply end up on the roof and I won't be able to get it back down again.
(Haggisbreeder Was talking when he should have been listening on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 1:19, Reply)

Religious education
Neither of my parents are at all religious (although they aren't actively anti-religion - they left it to my brothers and I to make up our own minds), so I never went to church. However, in primary school we had "Religious Education" classes, which instead of being classes studying comparative religion (which might have actually been interesting) were actually some guy whose job it was to come in and proselytise Christianity at us for an hour every week. The guy who we had was one of those noxious "appeal to the kids" types who had an earring and collected basketball cards and told jokes and was totally cool, etc.

I never had any time for evangelism, especially when it was being pushed on me during taxpayer-funded education time, so I used to just tune out when he was talking about Jesus and answer the word finds and puzzles in the propaganda booklet he gave us. The upshot of this was that every so often he'd say something like "OK gang, turn to page 14 and do the crossword there. First one to finish gets a lolly!". Since I'd completed all the puzzles weeks earlier, I just sat there for a few minutes pretending to write to make it seem plausible, then put up my hand and claimed my prize.

So basically, from a young age I came to the conclusion that the only benefit of religion is that it can be cynically manipulated for personal gain. I should have been a Borgia.
(oball needs Satan more than he needs me, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 1:11, Reply)

Fun with Jehovas
I used to be quite friendly with the Jehovas witnesses that knocked on my door, lovely old ladies. But when they started giving my small hardback books instead of the little watchtower newsletter I knew I had to get rid of them and have used the following excuses to deter them:

1. Ask them to wish me, family member, friends or cat a happy birthday.
2. Tell them im too busy to talk as im about to give blood at the Methodist church.
3. Tell them im training to be a phlebotamist (drawer of blood) (this isnt a complete lie btw, im doing nursing training.)

Either they don't like me anymore or they've died. And if they have then hopefully God has explained how silly they've been.
(boshalake attempted to be sober on, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 1:06, 2 replies)

The closest I ever came to God...
...was being sexually abused by a Catholic priest...back in Nam...true story!
(FeldmanHaimBluesExplosion : You've only to believe if you wish to achieve. T, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 0:58, 1 reply)

Icanhazchurch?
Ceiling Cat and Basement Cat, surely.
(meowmix is a voodoo child, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 0:44, Reply)

OH MY GOD!
The closest I've ever got to God is shaggin in the missionary position. Does anyone know why it's called that by the way?

I do recall an evening when some J witness arrived and me being the polite gentlemen that I am opened the door and greeted them.
"Do you believe in God?" was their opening gambit.
"Yes" I replied matter of factly, "But just not tonight". And with that I closed the door.

I didn't have anything against the J witnesses until I heard what they did to an ex. She committed a "sin" by snogging some guy at the age of 16. She stood in front of a room of elders (read: old men) and confessed. That seems awfully creepy, but that was nothing compared to her next confessional. This time things went a bit further with the lad and she found herself standing in front of a room of these, quite frankly perverted men, telling them in detail about how his hand was all over her mimsy. That's just fucked. Fortunately she saw the error of her ways and moved in with a woman soon after and had a 6 month lesbian affair.

I have to admit that the only respect I give to God is that I capitalise the 'G' in his name. Almost every time I type his name I do it uncapitalised and then think, hang on what if he's real? So I go back and edit it. Never mind the fact I lied to woman to get sex ('yeah babe, sure we'll be friends afterwards' ...haha suckers!!), threw dogshit at my neighbours house, shot random people in the arse with my pellet gun and dipped my ex's toothbrush in the bog, threw tennis balls at my dog when he tried to poo thereby turning him into the pseudo neurotic hyper disturbed animal that he was. No, none of that bothers me at all and I haven't ever asked for forgiveness. Yet, somehow I feel a massive sense of guilt if I don't capitalise that first letter.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 0:39, 1 reply)

What's the harm?
whatstheharm.net/

That is all.
(misanthrope is so adjective he's verbing nouns!, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 0:32, 2 replies)