Confession Time!

I was very naughty tonight. Maybe it was because the CTA can't seem to run their trains properly during rush hour, or because some asshole whistled at me from his car, or just a chemical imbalance. I didn't try to start a riot on the train either to or from work, and I didn't attempt to chase Don Juan down and cut his dick off with a ruler, but I did go into the Jesus Freak Cafe for a soda and to wash my hands. I should have just gone home, because the blackboard in the bathroom was covered in the most silly-ass fundie comments and they pissed me off. I had to consider my responses, because my knee-jerk ones were all obscene. I finally came up with two. To the quote "The fear of God leads us to repentance," I crossed out "God" and put in "Death." My defense? The concept of sin and the need for repentance was invented by some priests to keep the faithful in line. How? By playing on their fear of death and the uncertainty of it all. "If you don't do what we say, you'll go to Hell." What motivation! Motivated me right out of the church. The second brain-dead scrawling was something to the effect of, "If you end up alone, don't wonder why," to which I graffittied, "Because men are scum!" Sorry, BRD, I know you are the exception. The sole exception. Well, maybe except for Dilbert. And my dad. So maybe they'll figure out who rained on their fundamentalist fest, and I'll be out. Or maybe I'll go back tomorrow, and they'll have come up with something equally snotty to say. Or maybe the heavens will open, the waters will part, and they'll have seriously considered my point of view.