Because the real Shelby GT 500 body kit cost too much….
forgive me, but..
Am I the devil because I didn’t want to speak to the missionaries today?
I’m not Mormon anymore and have no plans of going back. I disagree with several of the fundamentals of the church and quite frankly, wonder how the church is still in existence (my apologies if I offend anyone with that statement). That being said, I still have a soft spot for church members and I do appreciate the ones who mind their manners. I love the church members who give from their hearts and don’t try to play God by judging everyone they know. Regardless, I still have to be in the right mood to talk Mormon.
Homework mood is NOT the RIGHT mood for Mormon talk. Food mood is definitely NOT the right mood and boyfriend mood is even worse than food or homework mood. So, why do the missionaries keep showing up when I am in the WRONG mood? I thought they were supposed to show up when the spirit compelled them to or compelled me to seek them.. or someTHING along those lines.
I feel bad that I may have offended fellow humans by not wanting to speak to them. I do not feel bad though that I have other obligations that take higher priority right now than trying to debate the fundamentals of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints with eighteen-year-old boys.
It’s my fault though. I did spend an hour with them about two months ago. We talked about four wheeling, cars, and bank accounts. Maybe they needed more banking advise or just wanted to talk shop.. Well, whatever it was, it will have to wait for another time. My homework is consuming my life.
Joke was on me though — I told my Dad to answer the door when the doorbell rang. I had dog duty.. which meant I got stuck outside with the dog for an hour while my Dad yapped away with the two missionaries. I was still in my pajamas and I looked like a zombie with crud in my eyes and nasty breath.. there was NO way I was going inside getting caught looking like a Tales from the Crypt creature. I tried crawling through a window, but the damn screen wouldn’t come off. I thought about going in through the garage door, but the neighbor with the Volkswagens and the vanilla Hawaii lovers were both in their driveways. I was stuck. No cell phone. No laptop. Just the dog, a pond, and a lounge chair. At least it was nice out.
