Thursday, February 12, 2009

Taking the Time to Shit


I've decided to make Brian's day and be the first person to post something because I love Brian this much! you didn't know, that's me inexplicably stretching my arms out to their full width.

Eh eh hmm. Let's get straight down to it; shall we?

I watched my 9 month old nephew stand smack-dab in the middle of the living room and grunt the hell out of a shit the other day. He didn't give a fuck. Before I went to kindergarten I didn't care who knew I was pooping, either. Once at a family reunion I went to the front door of my grandparents' house, leaned outside, and yelled over the mass of people, "Mom, I'm gonna go poop!"

Now, I ask you...just how many times have you gone into a public restroom and held 'it' just so the people in there wouldn't know what you were doing? I have. It doesn't make sense, though. Do we honestly think that if people don't hear it, they won't think that we do it? What do we want people to think?...that we just reabsorb poop into our bodies like some sort of photosynthetic plant? According to that logic, we must also think that if a tree falls in the woods and nobody is there that it doesn't exist.

We're all mental, self included. We could learn a lot from babies. Why do we care so much about what others think?

Kids have stupid ideas about things. I think they get bits and pieces of them from their parents and then go to school and throw them at each other. For the most part, the things I threw at other kids weren't as lethal as what some of them brewed up. Some kids' parents must have shown them a sort of meanness I never understood and still don't. I grew up playing with my mom and sister and learning things about sharing and counting and about Muppets and how to love each other. I learned to treat animals like people and to laugh and imagine. Other kids learned to pinch and pull hair and judge others. I blame Church.

I went to Church until I was about 6 or 7 before I decided it just wasn't for me. All it took were two failed attempts at getting baptized for me to totally bail on that scene. The preacher told me that the devil was around at all times and if I didn't get baptized in the name of Jesus the devil would come up out of the ground from Hell and tie me to my chair with chains and take me to Hell with him. I was five. (I couldn't sleep for days.) So, I finally decided to get baptized.

At the first attempt, the preacher screamed, "the devil is among us!" at a snake in the creek and everyone scattered. After that nasty incident, the church started baptizing people in a cattle trough to avoid that whole devil-snake problem. I remember watching as they held Brian the retard underwater in that thing, kicking and flailing, to baptize him. He didn't know what was going on. For all he knew, the preacher was trying to drown him in a cattle trough for being retarded. (Hell, he might've been.) Southern Baptists can be fucking insane.

This was the same church where they had the preacher's daughter ask for forgiveness in front of the church for her black son because she got knocked up by a 'darkie.' (She also had a daughter by the same father but she looked like chocolate milk rather than a Hershey bar like poor Georgy so no-one cared about her.) Georgy wasn't aloud at church. I'm sure that's what God wanted...

I wonder whatever happened to Brian the retard or Georgy? ...on another note, can you save a retarded person? I mean, they don't understand that they're sinning, do they? They probably don't understand how to ask for forgiveness either. I'm so confused about the whole thing.

The way I understood it as a kid was: Jesus was pretty cool and God killed him for it. I still don't understand how that gets me a get out of jail free card.

Do I get my two hundred dollars?

Who the F is the Holy Ghost?

It's a wonder I turned out relatively normal at all.

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