Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Purgatory for dummies

I have determined, already, that I am going to hell. This is a fact. The one bright spot in all this is that I will be with friends, family, and bitches I hate so that I can torture them as they wonder why they are there. Hell is my kind of territory, so, clearly I'm not worried. Also, I will know what to wear when I do get there, unlike the applique sweater wearers of the world who actually thought they were going to heaven because they have an angel crocheted on to their body. Not so.
So, I will know what to wear and I will be among people I like, excellent.
My mother will also be in hell with me, this, again, was determined a long time ago. We do have self-righteous moments where there is the brief mention of "goodness" and "doing what is right" but these moments are almost immediately cancelled out by conversations that no human being would dare think, let alone have. Take last night for instance; the topic: Extreme Makeover Home Edition.
"What the fuck is up with that show? It seems like all the losers win the houses!"

"Seriously, they don't even know about decorating. They don't know that it's a big deal to have a BRAND NEW Viking stove. I mean, jesus!"

"I need a Viking stove! Shit, I need jeans that fit my kid. It just seems like they take these pathetic families who take like 9 HIV-positive kids and stuff them into a fuckin' trailer the size of a sardine can, 'cause that's really responsible."

My mom paused, "Yeah, now that you mention it, what the hell is wrong with DSS letting those kids live there in the first place. I mean, who the hell would let a kid, let alone 12, live in those conditions?!"

"Yeah, and we're supposed to get all teary-eyed 'cause they have a house. They're rolling on the ground like friggin' puppies, one kid's wheezing through his oxygen tank..."

"Dont forget, there's at least two black kids."

"Right, two black kids with Hepatitis C..."

"And the kid with the twisted leg, and don't forget to throw in a cleft palette."

"Oh yeah, you're good, I totally forgot about the lip going up into the noise thing, yeah, gotta have one of those. Come to think of it, the only reason I cry when I watch that show is because you know that house is gonna be a shithole in six months."

"Yup, instead of being arrested for neglect, they get a new house, it just doesn't seem fair."

So, you see why we're going to hell, I think I've made that pretty clear. Don't worry, I am raising the kids in the same vein so we can all be togther in the afterlife. Why stop now?
For dinner, baked potatoes gutted, cheesed, stuffed and rebaked, and shell your own soybeans. Not bad, except that Lucian discovered that he could squeeze the beans out of the shell in the manner of a gun, so the meal was "dotted" with soybean fire from his end of the table until Anna lost her shit and took her potato into the living room where she would not be shot at.

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