[reflexions] AM I GOING TO H-E-double-hockey-sticks? :(

Already been.

It's called Utah and you don't want to go there.

 

LOL, you may as well just get in your car, set your GPS to "Hell" and drive. They've already got your spot ready and waiting. Row 11, Pit 4.

 

Pretty bad, Swoly-Sir, but it sounds like Master Baiter is driving the bus. The good news is that if Voodoo Pope is going, he can cook. I don't mind tending bar... think of the stories you'd get to hear! These have to be the tip of the iceberg.

 

I think some of you are holding back on some juicy stories. As for me, mine would be incriminating. Tell you when I see flames.

 

When I was in high school and doing theater all the time, one summer we had 'theater camp' at Lamar University, which was like 3 weeks long, and we put on a couple of complete productions in that short a time.

In the show I was in, I don't remember, it was called David and Lisa or something like that, I was the main administrator of some kind of psychiatric treatment center for troubled teens.

In one scene, my 'office' was up on a platform, maybe 2 feet high. My chair, my desk, and two other chairs for the kids who would come in and sit down during the scene.

Well, the platform was not very big - everything really barely fit on it.

And before one rehearsal, the devil sat on my shoulder and I wondered what would happen if I put the back leg of one of the kids' chairs right up to the edge of the platform.

So I did.

And then, we go on about rehearsing. The scene is going on, and suddenly comes time for the kids, a guy and girl, to sit down.

This is when everything turned to slow motion.

I am watching his face, this guy is acting up a storm, being very earnest and into his bit. He begins the motion of sitting, and instead of sitting, he just keeps going backwards. The expression on his face changed from seriousness, to one of surprise, then wide-eyed shock, and then finally fear. His arm was outstretched in my direction, his mouth open in a wordless 'O', as, all still in super-slo-mo, he tumbled backwards and onto the floor.

The metal chair clattered, he rolled a bit, hopped up, dusted himself off, everyone was all 'Are you ok??', he was fine, was laughing about it. Rehearsal continued, everything cool.

But even now, some 30 years later, that frozen image of that kid falling backwards into space, that shocked and instinctive 'help me!' moment on his face, it still cracks me up near to tears.

And no one has ever heard that story until now.

Maybe not 'going to hell' stuff exactly, but still, if I think about it now, it was not very nice. But still funny AS hell..

 

So a few years ago, I was walking down a long hallway at college, and it was literally me, and some kid about 100 feet away from me, running in my direction, because I guess he was in some kind of hurry. Well, there was a piece of paper on the floor of the hallway, and since he was in a dead sprint, he didn't see it or something, and he stepped on it, and went FLYING into the air. Like, I'm talking horizontal, laid-out into the air, with his books and everything going EVERYWHERE. He landed flat on his back, and let out this "OOOOMPH" sound that I can still hear to this day. Now, a normal person would immediately get down, and help the guy up, and help him get on his way....but I'm not normal. I start cracking up right in front of him, and I say "eh, I'd give that an 8....you didn't really stick the landing." He shoots me this death glare, picks up his stuff, and runs off. I still feel bad about it to this day, but I'm not gonna lie.....I still laugh everytime I think about it.

 

Ok, I got a soft one. Nothing too hardcore here, at least when i tally all the things I have done that could send me to hell.

Well, once my chick got me a job with my sister in law once working as a salesman. Me and another spanish guy that worked in production really hit it off, and developed a friendship. A few months later, he told me he was going to Monterrey, Mexico, where he was from to party it up. He told me how great it was. I was sold. We went. As some of you may know, I'm a white guy that speaks no spanish except the cuss words. Going there was a whole nother world. We went clubbing, and all of the mexican girls were hitting on me like crazy. My friend, told me it was b/c I was different, white, and the girls rarely see many white guys at the local clubs. Too make a long story short, I brought 3 girls back to my hotel room....hot chicks that I doubt I could ever pull over here in the states, 10/10. Well, I got my freak on, woke up in the middle of 3 chicks the next morning. I walked over to the bathroom and noticed hickeys all over my neck. Huge ones that looked like insane birthmarks. I freaked. I told my friend, my girl was going to kill me when I get home and she sees this. He started telling me of some Mexican remedy to get the hickeys off. Use a cold spoon, and rub it on the hickey, and it will spread the blood in the skin. Didnt work. I gave it like 2 days, still nothing. So I did the unthinkable. I went to the local market, and bought a curling iron. I had my friend hold it on my neck untill it burned the hickeys off my skin. I'm not talking 5 seconds either. I must have burned my neck 20-30 times, sometimes holding it on my neck for up to a minute, with it steaming hot. Finally, I got the look I wanted. God this is insane. My friend was like, you must really love your girl to be doing this. My neck was scabbed up soooooo bad. Serious pain, folks. When I got back to Texas, I told everyone that my friends uncle, opened a huge bar-b-q pit while grilling, and when he did, it hit my neck and took the skin off. Everyone still to this day believes this story. I still have the scar. I have been with my girl for 11 years, and we are getting married, next April. Shhhhh, dont tell!!!

 

I don't think that will put you in hell. Doing three chicks and then burning your own neck to a crisp to cover it up puts you in the "man hall of fame" as far as I am concerned.

 

In church on Holy Thursday, I made a crack about the priest to my wife. He is Filipino, and was singing parts of the communion, and was doing a masterful job. He really sounded good, which isn't always the case in some churches.

I turned to my wife and said "I guess all that karaoke is paying off". We have 2 sisters-in-law who are Filipino, and each time we have gone to their parent's house, we are forced to sing karaoke. Apparently, it's pretty big in some Asian cultures, so I've joked about it all the time, just never in church at a Filipino priest.

Are semi-racist jokes OK in church, even if in good fun? Hopefully, God has a sense of humor.

 

yeah, yeah, sorry i wasnt pulling chairs from r****ds.

 

You better hope your girl doesn't know that you post here!!!!

 

She does, but she wouldnt ever come in here, not her style. I know my story might not be as bad as others, but I do feel bad for my actions.

 

According to my brother-in-law, God is Filipino. You're toast.

 

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C'mon man
When you get to the Pearly Gates you just tell em' it was "A Goof"
and you'll be fine.

 

More on The Goof
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I grew up Catholic and attended Catholic elementary and high school. If doing bad things in church during mass ratchets up the hell-o-meter make room in the front seat for me.

Our church used to have these little monthly mass-book things (a missalatte?) that had all of the scripture readings and the mass stuff in a small magazine-like stapled book. They were pretty confusing; especially for older folks. We had to always help my grandmother stay on track.

One Sunday, my brother and I replaced the missalette of an old couple that sat in front of us with one that we had taken out the staples and then re-arranged all the pages and then re-inserted the staples.

Watching the poor guy try to find his place in the book was so funny (at the time) that we were crying from trying not to laugh.

Unfortunately, our grandmother discovered what was up. She was Sicilian. Needless to say, we received our hell after church. It was so funny (at the time) that it was worth it.

A random sampling of other stuff:

Reached second and third base in the confessional (actually still proud of this one).
Spit on the pew in front of me for the guy to sit in (not just a little spit either).
Reached back with my foot and pushed the guy in back of me off the kneeler (the sound echoed throughout the church).
Lied to the priest during confession (it's not like you could tell him what you really did).