» God

In my life,
I have had many jobs, but the one that secured my seat in that warm and burny place was a camp counselor for kids ages 12-14, and, by the way, It was a church camp. I am a person to which an abnormal amount of irreverence to absolutely everything was bestowed, so, I had some fun with it.

Now, the type of kids that attended this camp had some, one, or all of the following qualities:

(a)Had been to catholic school their entire lives, and thus, knew nothing of the outside world.

(b)were socially inept to a point that it hindered day to day existence

(c) were geniuses of the science of pissing people off

Now, the particular child in this event wore sunglasses constantly, at all times of day, and insisted on being referred to, not his normal name, but a self bestowed nickname of "Shades"
He refused to participate in the normal chores given to the campers during the day, such as cleaning the bathrooms, helping with kitchen cleanup and other such things. He also refused to shower.

At night, the campers were required to be in bed with lights out and silent by 11pm. The counselors, there were eight of us, four guys, four girls, yearned for the nights when we would walk past the dorms and see a flashlight beam pass the windows and storm in and get the little bastard or bastardette to do some cleaning so we wouldn't have to.

On one night we gave the kids a scary story that consisted of a priest hanging himself in the dorms they slept in, and one of the male counselors walking through the dorms in a priest's robes. The plan worked and they were scared shitless, but after a point, we grew tired of the noise coming from the dorms while we tried to enjoy our nightly smoke. Thus, we ran in and threw the lights on and began screaming wildly at all the boys in the dorms. I look upon the top of one of the bunk beds, shades' bunk in particular, and this 12 year old boy is...er...pounding the tube steak, summoning the genie, beating the purple headed yogurt slinger, killing kittens, masturbating is what i'm getting at. I was shocked, and in my ganja assisted stupor, I screamed "Shades, what the fuck are you doing?" at which point he throws the blanket covering himself off, he is wearing the sunglasses, and he moans loudly, and proceeds to ejaculate, hitting himself in the sunglasses and surrounding area. Now the picture this makes is the following: Four men, ages 18 to 25, screaming at scared young boys, who, by the way are scared because of someone dressed as a Catholic Prest, and one of them gets covered in his own semen.

If my life is viewed at any point without any back story or input from me, I am going straight to hell.

Apologies for length, and you should probably clean up a little bit.
(Sat 21st Mar 2009, 18:44, More)

» Hypocrisy

My Grandmother,
Is quite a sweet old lady, she spends her time with her grandchildren, enjoys working on little arts and crafts type projects.

And is also an outrageously devout Catholic.

I occasionly come round my grandmothers place to do general repairs and other such activities around her house.

One Sunday, as I have completed the lastest round of repairs she has requested of me, she asks me the following question:

"Why Bailey, why is it that you don't attend Mass on a weekly basis?"

Well, the logical answer to this would be:

"Why Dearest Grandmother of mine, I shall begin attending immediately and with a very ravenous and fervent appetite for the Gospel"

But nay, I say the following:

"Because it's bores me, literally, to shit."

Needless to say, the full fury of this tiny old woman was leveled upon me and I left the property as fast as I could.

Following this, I did not hear from my grandmother for the next week, so I figure, I shall show up for Mass and attempt to reconcile with my dearest Grandma.

I enter the church and look for my grandmother, she is seated towards the back of the church amid a full row of her church friends. I sit about 4 rows behind her as the service begins.

After the gospel, I have so far made it through the service unvisited by the sweet embrace of sleep.

I look forward to my grandmother as the priest begins his sermon.

She is stone cold, fucking out.

And she remained that way the remainder of the service.

Turns out she died.


The bitch, Church bored her more than it did me.
(Tue 24th Feb 2009, 23:54, More)