b3ta.com user vladk2k
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» God

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?"
(Fri 20th Mar 2009, 8:53, More)

» Thrown away: The stuff you loved and lost.

Not as much as thrown out
...but rendered useless.

T'was but a year ago, I had managed to put aside €500 for a 6 day trip to Paris. It was my last money, since I was unemployed (I'm on full scholarship, can't be arsed to fail any exam) and all I wanted was a memorable experience from it.

Sure, I've visited almost anything that can be visited, starting with Disneyland and ending with the obscure Aquarium in the north. I have extremely pleasant memories of everything. On my last day, I've been left with only €10 in my hand, save the money for the cab to the airport and "emergency use only". I bought myself a novelty T-shirt, white, with the Heineken logo only replaced so that it read Paris.

Went home, worn it once, put it the laundry bin, didn't see it for about two months. Until I've found it hidden in mum's dresser - it had become PINK (argh!).

My only material memory of Paris was a pink T-Shirt that I can't wear 'cause it's pink and my girlfriend can't wear 'cause it's about lager.

Epilogue - I've visited Sibiu this spring, bought a T-shirt from there, nice fabric and all, white with blue trims. Yes, it's pink now.

Length? From my neck to my knob.

P.S.: Yes, I still live with my parents. Did I mention I was unemployed?
(Tue 19th Aug 2008, 13:17, More)