Tag Archive | Christianity

I didn’t see it coming

I told you a while back that my sister met a man the day of the trail ride & crawfish boil.  He’s a cowboy of course, and a good bit older than her.  He was also very funny and flirty.  Just her type.  So a few days later she asked if I would babysit Little Bubba for a while so that she could hang out with him.  It turned out that all they did was go across the road to Dolly’s Cabin and “hang out.”  Of course we all know what that means.

The next night after her “date” we were sitting at the dining room table eating dinner and I asked how her “date” went.  With a big goofy grin on her face she told me that it was “something.”  Something?  I wasn’t sure what that meant so I inquired further.  She told me that he was very large.  She wasn’t talking about his weight.  He’s an average sized guy.  Not bad-looking either.  No, she was talking about something else.  She said he was porn star big.  Therefore, furthermore, he will be called Porn Dick.

She explained that it was the biggest one she’d never seen.  Yes, that’s right.  She said never seen.  Evidently the lights were off when things started getting hot and heavy and then she said what would become a running joke for us.  “It was huge!  I just didn’t see it coming!”

At that point I started laughing and the conversation continued to go further into the gutter full of dick jokes and cum-filled innuendos.  I almost wet my panties I was laughing so hard.

God Hates No One

A few weeks later we were sitting on the front porch one evening talking about a sign that a local church had posted in their front window.  It said “We welcome everyone including HOMOSEXUALS. Come Sunday for explanation.”  Someone had taken a picture of it and posted it on Facebook.  The local gay/lesbian community was not happy with it, and I can’t say that I blame them.  The church in question isn’t known for its tolerance towards people with views that differ from their own.  The tag line on their website says, “Come as you are, but don’t expect to stay that way.”  Unfortunately that should be a positive message, but it’s actually more of a testimony to how judgmental and controlling they are.  It should say, “Come as you are, but if you want to keep coming you’ll have to conform to our views of what a Christian should be (not God’s).”

So while sis and I were sitting on the porch and talking I mentioned that we should start our own church for freaks and rejects.  She was amused and halfheartedly agreed.  I was serious though.  I’m sick of so-called Christians thinking that people have to conform to their beliefs to be saved.  What about God?  Shouldn’t He be the one who we are worried about pleasing and conforming to what He wants us to be?  God loves everyone.  How do these churches expect to get people to come worship with them when all they do is judge and demean anyone who doesn’t meet with their approval?

The worst part was when my sister sent a text to an acquaintance of hers.  He is a member of that very same church, and even teaches several classes there.  The text she sent him asked about the sign.  He said that he did know about the sign, but wasn’t sure what the pastor was going to “explain” on Sunday.  Then came the kicker.  He said, “Personally though, I hate fucking fags.”  Wow.  There’s a shining example of a small town dumb-ass fake Christian right there folks.

Oops.  I started getting a little preachy there didn’t I?  Well, that’s alright.  You know why?  Because while I was waiting on my chicken fingers to be deep-fried at the local gas station/fried food emporium last week, I became an ordained minister online.  It took about five minutes and it’s legal in most states.  So now not only can I do wedding ceremonies, funerals and the like, I can also start my own church if I so choose.  Who knows.  Maybe I will do just that.  The Preacher always did say that he thought I was called into the ministry.  Maybe my ministry will be helping the freaks and rejects, like myself and my sister, have a place to worship freely without fear of judgement from anyone other than God.

Happy humping!

P.S.  My sister drives me crazy in many ways, but I would never trade her for anything.

Who am I?

I’ve been a cheater, a liar, a thief, and a slut.  I always got caught though.  Once caught I was forced to take a long hard look at myself and decide whether I wanted to continue being those things.  Consciously I always chose to take the path towards becoming a better person.  That doesn’t mean that it was easy to change my ways, or that I never did those things again.  I still slip up occasionally.

I really do want to be a good person and believe that I am a good person.  I’m just a good person who does bad things sometimes.  Growing up in the church I was taught that there is only right and wrong.  If you did wrong, unless you asked for forgiveness you were sinning and headed for eternal damnation.  It was enough to scare the pants off of a little kid.  Fear is what motivated me into being a good girl growing up, not a desire to be a good Christian.  I was afraid of God and the Preacher.  The fear of disappointing the Preacher also kept me from doing a lot of varied and nefarious things that I would have liked to have done.  Why do you think it took me 19 years to go on my first date and 22 years to lose my virginity?  I was scared shitless of being thought of as a bad person and of going to hell.

There came a point though when I screwed up so bad and got caught that I just gave up the fight.  I decided that even though what I had done was wrong, I had not done anything nearly as bad as what all they were accusing me of, so why not just do it.  That was fifteen years ago and I’m still somewhat stuck in that mindset.  I don’t know if it’s just my way of proving to myself that I am free to do what I want, or if it’s just a bad habit that I can’t get rid of.

For the last two years this blog has been my saving grace.  It has allowed me to express my innermost thoughts and feelings and to confess my bad behaviors.  I’ve been especially surprised by how writing has helped me think through things and figure out what I really believe and what I really want.  It’s forced me to look inside myself and when I go back and read over what I’ve written I am able to see my faults with shining clarity.

I don’t want to stop looking at myself and trying to make myself a better person.  If I were to stop doing that then what is the point of living this crazy life?

Manwhore told me last night that I would give away everything I had, every last dollar, to help someone.  That I am one of the best people he knows.  I wish I could see myself like that, but it’s so difficult knowing the things that I’ve done.  Even though I’ve literally begged God for forgiveness at times, I’m just not sure that’s enough.  I feel like no matter what I say or do, it’s never enough.

Every day is a battle for me, trying to reconcile what I was taught growing up in church and how I would really like to live my life.  I have so many issues with the church that it isn’t even funny anymore.  I may try to see the humor in it all, but sometimes that’s impossible.

I’m not exactly sure where I was going with all of this, but it feels good to get it all out.  So until next time…

God bless.

Growin’ up on ZZ Top and Strawberry Shortcake.

I know that’s probably not the best title for a Martin Luther King Jr. Day post, but then again maybe it explains a lot.  By the way, I know I’m technically posting this the day after MLK Jr Day.

When I was growing up in Alabama racism was not something I thought about often.  It was the South though and it was all around me.  Even then, back in the 1970s and 1980s, I knew it was there, but no one talked about it much.  It was more of how whites treated blacks.  It was usually subtle, but it was still there.  It was like the skeleton in the family closet…the secret that everyone knew about, but didn’t talk about out of shame and fear of what others might think of them.

Typical music that I would hear when riding around with my Aunt in her convertible VW Beetle in the summer.

Even dear old Dad, the Preacher, was a blatant racist for a very long time.  He was the typical good old country boy who worked from the age of thirteen in the family business.  When I was a kid he worked 12+ hour days with my Paw Paw in their welding shop.  They had about a dozen employees usually and a few were black men.

One man in particular, Bill, was young and new to the business.  My Dad was sort of hard on him and very critical.  I remember overhearing him talking to my mom about Bill one time.  Dad was complaining about how Bill was dating a white girl.  At the time it didn’t really phase me because I was used to that just being how people thought.  I didn’t really know any better.

I had black friends growing up.  My best friend in the sixth grade was a black girl.  It’s not that I disliked them, or was a racist, I just inherently knew how people felt about things like that.  I was too naïve to know I should or could ever think otherwise.

From 1971 to 1987 George Wallace was governor of the state of Alabama.  This meant that for 13 years of my life, there was a racist in the governor’s mansion.  You remember George don’t you?  He’s the one who said, “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.”

When my Dad became the Preacher in 1985 his views on things changed drastically.  This included his views on racism.  He no longer viewed himself as being better than anyone else, nor did he continue believing that segregation was the right way.

When he started preaching he would take us to different churches around our part of the state and several of them were black churches.  I know that’s not the best way to describe them, but that’s what I always heard them called.  I loved going because it was always so different from the churches that we normally went to.  The music was better, more upbeat, the people were friendly, and the sermons were fiery and interesting.

When I think back on everything I’ve heard and seen, it’s hard for me to believe that I turned out to be such an anti-racist.  Seriously.  Things could have gone completely different for me, but somehow I overcame my environment and grew up an open-minded person who believes we are all created equal.

What’s even better is that now I have an adopted little brother who is half-black half-white, I have dated just about every race there is, and I’m now in a monogamous relationship with a wonderful Creole man.  So not only did I turn out OK, my Dad managed to overcome his ignorance and came to believe as I do.  We may not agree on a lot, but this is something we definitely agree on.  We agree so much that we both have put our lives and safety on the line for our beliefs on this subject several times.  He even marched right next to Jesse Jackson once.  For the Preacher, the former racist good old boy, that was a major milestone.

Standing up for what is right and true is the most wonderful feeling in the world.  That’s the one thing that the Preacher has taught me that I will remember until the day I die.  Love knows no color, creed or race.  Thank you Daddy.

This was filmed only eight blocks from my new home. 🙂

Happy humping!

How to get fired from a church

I was down visiting my parents Labor Day weekend 1995 and Pastor Cracker, my dad’s friend, was there visiting also.  I had taken copies of my résumé so that I could look for jobs there, but wasn’t too serious about it.  I was in college back in my hometown, and I also had a pretty good job there.

While the Preacher, my mom, Pastor Cracker and I were talking, Pastor Cracker mentioned that they were about to the point of needing a full-time secretary at his church.  The Preacher got all excited and told Pastor Cracker that I was an excellent secretary and might be interested.  Me, a church secretary? Don’t make me laugh.  Actually at that time I was still a “good girl” and hadn’t done much sowing of my wild oats yet.  Don’t worry.  That all changed in due time.

The thought of getting out of my hometown was enough to entice me into taking the job.  Up until then I had only lived outside of my hometown once, and that was when I was Continue reading

I am blessed. Are you?

I am blessed.  I was writing a long rant about this past weekend with EB and about my plans to go to church and have a few words with the new “pastor” of my dad’s church, but then I read the following quote on Facebook.

“One of the greatest blessings in the world is to be able to be happy even when things in life are not going the way we planned.” Joyce Meyer

It may sound like common sense and a very simplified view of how a person should live their life, but it struck a chord with me.  I’ve been so caught up in my on little world full of stress and worry that I had forgotten just how good I have it.

I may not have a lot of money, a big house, or a good job, but I have my family and friends, a roof over my head and food on my table.  I am happy and I am blessed.

My relationship with EB may be over, and I have no plans to seek out another relationship anytime soon, but I’m ok with that.  I’d rather be alone and happy than with someone and miserable.  I would still like to get my motor home one day and take my blogging on the road.  I’ve been re-inspired by Kernut the Blond and her RV journey.  One day I will hit the road in my own little RV. 🙂

From now on I will continue to remind myself that I am blessed and happy.

I may still post my rant.  I haven’t decided yet.  I hate seeing it just sit there in the draft box.  LOL

Happy humping!