rock ROCK fighting cock!

it has been a strange coupla days. laid back and lazy, but strange. i wrote a whole post about it the other day, but then deleted it thinking i had gone too far. i'll paraphrase here.

christians should stay the hell off my porch.

if i put a no soliciting sign on my door, will that work? i have never been prostelytized more than here in ol' virginny, which is weird cause most of the people on my street are old. you'd think that the evangelists would mark this street "old people who have already committed to a religion" and go somewhere else more ripe for the convertin'. i mean, does it ever work? do they ever roll up on a crack den and come in to talk to them and change them all from their evil ways? can you peddle religion the same way you peddle vaccuum cleaners? w suggested a sign for our front door that said "want to talk to us about religion? that'll be $50." he thinks that would keep them away.

i should have known by the tepid knock...my landlord knocks the loud knock of someone who knows it's inappropriate to just stop by unannounced but doesn't care, and my friends don't come by unannounced. i should have just let the loud ass muthafuckin' barkin dogs scare them away, but like my mother i am physically incapable of ignoring a knock at the door or a ringing phone.

i had just snagged a leftover porkchop from the fridge for my breakfast and set it on the bistro table beside me. i got up to answer the door (dirty stringy hair, covered in naught but a smelly bathrobe), far-too-politely shooed away the overly make-upped zeealots on my porch, and turned around to see...

emma. eating my fucking breakfast.

i mean look, i tried religion. all growing up, i went to church and the thing i prayed for constantly, ceaselessly, was faith. faith like other people seemed to have, so effortlessly and completely. it seemed so comforting, and i was always deeply jealous.

it just never came to me. and i am certainly not going to let two crazy ladies with bibles into my hovel of a living room (filled with last night's wine and beer bottles, ashtrays and other scandalous detritus) to try to give me the "good news." cause i had already heard the good news--

"mel, there's a delicious left over pork chop in the fridge for your breakfast! enjoy!"

then i saw the bad news. the dog, though she didn't have time to devour the whole thing, had sullied my yummy breakfast with her doggy mouth. i got one delicious (and i mean SUCCULENT, that was a fucking good pork chop) bite, and the rest went to the dogs quite literally.

i generally ascribe to a very "live and let live" kind of credo. but this will not stand, this agression will not fucking stand, man. i feel like going to their fucking church, three days without a shower in nothing but my filthy robe, and telling them exactly what i think of their organized religion door to door nonsense.