Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Return of the Religites

So it took nearly a millennium, but I think the Church is finally getting a clue about marketing in the 21st Century. Sex Sells! I say this because yesterday which was MLK Jr. Day so I had a lovely Monday off from work. Just add that to the many accomplishments that the good Dr. King made possible. But I digress, in fact I spend most of my free time digressing.

The point is I was home on a holiday and I get a knock at the door. Freckle Dick and Ass Breath begin barking up a storm at the door as only they can do. I open the door assuming it's the housekeeper. You see many of us here in LA have the twisted fortune of paying people from less wealthy countries like Mexico and Central America to clean our houses. Coming from the east coast it seemed weird, but it's easy to make the adjustment to being lazy. But again I digress. But it's not our housekeeper, it's two attractive young women in their mid-twenties. They're both wearing stylish short skirts and name tags. My dogs are sniffing their legs with great interest. My first thought is "Did I order two young women off the internet?" Sadly, no. Not this time. They're here to talk to me about Jesus and God and their Church. I repress the powerful urge to blurt out "Jesus!? Isn't he dead? I heard that he died a few years ago." The next urge I suppress is to yell out "You fuckin' Churchies just cost us a very important Presidential election. I fucking hate you!" But I'm a gentleman and more importantly I'm startled by the sight of two hot young God-fearing women on my doorstep. Perhaps it is my destiny to convert them over to the righteous path of hedonism? Fortunately I was on the phone when I opened the door so I didn't have to get into a heavy chat about how they're worshipping a set of rules that is responsible for killing more people than anything else on earth.

Churchie Skirt #1: Hi, we're from the Church. My name is Sister John and this is Sister Lelepali. We're going around speaking about the Church and sharing the word of God." They're friendly and fairly laid back certainly as far as nuns go. Sister John goes to shake my hand. Which made me oddly uncomfortable and I pretended not to see her extended hand by telling my "long distance" caller to hold on a moment.

Churchie Skirt #2: How are you today?

Me: "I'm... fine, thanks. Although I'm on the phone long distance right now."

Actually the person on the phone was calling from about 7 miles away.

Churchie Skirt #1: When is a better time that we can arrange to come back and see you?"

Huh? This part didn't even sound like it was about official church business. I've never had young women arrange to come back and see me. At least not two at a time. I'm thinking I wish my wife was here to speak for me, because I was coming across as somebody who was totally cool with hearing about the Church and "the Word of God." Why? Because it's hard for me to be rude to cute young women despite the severe brainwashing they may have received. I tell them to come back in an hour or so. Why? I don't know. I just hoped they'd be done in our neighborhood by then and forget all about me. But just in case I left this note on my door.



In retrospect I should have hung up the phone, asked them in and shown them my Jesus Action figures and asked them to show me some of their tattoos. I should have made them comfortable, offered some refreshing ice tea and asked them why the Republicans are spreading the word of God, since God is dead and our country is in the hands of Corporate Weasels who don't respect any of the Christian teachings of Jesus and have sent us into a mindless religious war in which thousands of our soldiers have died for nothing. I'd ask them why Jesus needed cheerleaders like them to hustle for him if he really is the son of God. Then I could have steered the conversation around and asked if they wanted to pose for some tasteful pictures with my dogs. I could have asked them all about Hell and what I might expect it to be like when I got there. Then it would all be a blur of vodka, sex toys and narcotics until Penny got home. That's when the kinky stuff would get underway. If only some of my heathen Aussie chums had been there with me. I'm shy if there's no appreciative audience to watch me embarrass myself and others. Since they were kind enough to include their address, I've decided to send them a letter. Any questions or comments about religion, Jesus or God or anything that you'd like me to include in my letter to the young sisters? Yes, of course don't worry I'll ask them to include a picture of themselves.

So far I plan to ask them:

1) Does God have a beard or not?

2) Is God mad at me for something I said or did?

3) Did God write the bible all by himself? Has he written any other good books?

4) When you gals aren't out spreading the word of God, do you ever like to get freaky deaky?

5) Do you know that God exists? How? Does he like the ladies? What's his favorite color?

6) If God hates the gays then how come he lets all those alter boys get molested by the priests?

7) If you accidentally kill somebody during rough sex can you still get into heaven? Just curious.

8) If Jesus comes back, would it be okay if he crashed at your place?

9) Would it be weird if he walked in on you while you were taking a shower?

10) Would you lock the bathroom door or would you trust him and leave it open?



10 comments:

Anonymous said...

What the!!? Do you have a prior relationship with these people? I cant imagine they would leave messages like this on every house they get no response from... Your hand would crap up pretty quickly I would think.

kranki said...

Nope. No prior relationship with these sisters. I titled it Return of the Religites because I had another duo visit me a few months ago. I'll look for the old post if you care to read it. It's a bit crass.

Sherriff said...

What sort of plane did Pontius Pilate fly?

If alcohol is evil, why the Hell did Jesus turn the water into Wine? And what happened at that party anyway?

Turning Water Into Wine: The work of Jesus

Seeing Jesus piss all over Paul in a drunken haze and laughing like a maniac while shaving a sleeping Peter's eyebrows off: Priceless

And why was getting Stoned considered a punishment back then? Nowadays we PAY for the privelege!

Desci said...

Kranki,

Please note that points eight through ten led to soda-water-snorting results.

Dxo

Anonymous said...

I noticed you scratched out your name on the note but left theirs on it. You are a coward.

kranki said...

"You're a coward." Said the anonymous commenter.

People who live in glass houses shouldn't be such complete dick heads.

Do you think I want weirdos like you to have my phone number? No. That's why I don't push the word of God and leave my phone number on people's doors.

Dr Zen said...

I'm thinking that "Sister John" was not the name she was given by her parents.

It must be her Jesus name. I think we should all have one.

Mine will be Sister Bismillah-Vishnu. I think it covers most bases.

Anonymous said...

Yes anonymous because I don't want to register a blogger.com account. You are not only a coward but immature as well.

Anonymous said...

Hmm, I don't have a blogger.com account, and yet I was afforded the privilege of selecting 'Other' over 'Anonymous'. It even allowed me to add a name.

(Sure hope it displays, now.)

Somehow, Anonymous, your name-calling attacks just aren't too persuasive.

Widemouth said...

Reminds me of the fishing tactic of the Church of God (or something like that) a cult that ran around in the 70`s using women to entice men out of bars and then offering group sex as part of their church. Okay - sorry to get you all excited. They may just be nice girls but door to door sounds a little risky, you`d be better off having the crap scared out of you with something like this http://www.squidoo.com/hell-eternal than seduced into a church without being faintly interested in the main topic.

Sherriff - FYI - The wine from the turn of BC to AD was made without refined sugar and very low alcohol content. You would have to really work at getting hammered - probably for hours.

Dr. Zen - you already have your name!