A few years ago as I was driving in a car with my mother and grandmother, my grandma pointed to a church and said, “The Beacon Journal said that that’s the oldest church in Akron.”
My mother replied, “No Mom, that isn’t the oldest church.  The oldest church is farther down Market.”

An argument erupted.  An argument that lasted an entire year.  An entire year.  An entire fucking year…

My grandmother would not let it go.  She had to prove my mom wrong.  Every time the two of them got together my grandma, at some point, would mention that church.  My mom insisted that they drop it but my grandma would not hear of it!  It became a joke to the rest of the family.  Then it got aggravating.  One day, my mother surfed the web, found an article on the oldest church in Akron, printed it out, and gave it to my grandma.  My mother was right.  This process took an entire fucking year.

Now, onto the next story. 

People drop kittens off at my grandma’s house every summer.  She is known throughout the neighborhood as some crazy cat lady.  And every summer she goes through some sort of drama trying to find these kittens a home or trying to get the Humane Society to take them.

Last night, a raccoon ate one of the kittens.  My grandma found a woman who would take the remaining kittens.

So, I had to take my grandma miles away to some lady who has ninety cats in her house and who doesn’t give cats to homes with children.  So she has ninety of them.

During the car ride, my grandma explained to me the excruciating details of the kitten’s unfortunate demise. I’ll spare you the horrid shit I had to hear.

We got to the house.  My grandma took the cats inside.  She remained inside.  Five minutes went by.  Fifteen minutes went by.  Finally an entire fucking thirty minutes went by!  And then she came out.

We had a conversation.

“That house is so big.  You can’t even tell there are ninety cats in there.  I told her that if I had the money, I’d do the same thing as her.”
“…”
“I asked her if she was a religious person.  She said, ‘Oh, yeah.’  And so I told her that after the kitten died last night and I had cried, I prayed so hard.  I prayed that I could find a place for these other kittens.  And God heard me.  He saved those kittens.  God is good.”
“…”
“I probably looked like a maniac last night.  After I found that kitten I chase that raccoon all around the yard.  I chased him with a mop under the porch and up the tree.  I cussed the son-of-a-bitch out and cried at the same time.”
“…”

She kept looking out her window the whole time spotting election signs.  She’d grumble and complain every time she spotted a McCain sign and she’d shake her fist in the air and say “Alright!” every time she saw an Obama sign.

Another conversation.

“Can you believe that Palin?  Mmph.”
“…”
“And McCain is just an old fuddy duddy.”
“…”
“Did you see Obama dance?  He was on Ellen.  He’s a good dancer.”
“He’s black.”
“Ha-ha.  He has such a nice smile.  I really hope nothing bad happens to him.”
“…”

Let me interject by saying that just a few months ago my grandma hated this man with a fierce passion.

After a moment of silence my grandma said in a hushed voice filled with emotion, “That woman is such a good person.”
She was referring to the ninety-cats person.

Soon, to my dismay, another conversation cropped up.

“Grandpa is going to West Virginia for two weeks.  I told Theresa and she said that it was a good thing and a bad thing.  I said that she had nailed it on the head.”
“…”
“I like it when he leaves but I’m afraid of being alone.  She said that I need to get a gun.”
“…!”
“If someone breaks in, I can shoot him.  If I had a gun, I could have killed that raccoon.”
“…………….”

She wanted me to take the dead kitten to my house so that my mom could bury it.  I told her that my mom would come pick it up tomorrow.  I didn’t want a fucking dead cat in my fucking car.

On the way home my grandma pointed at something out her window.

“That’s the oldest church in Akron.”
“…”

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that atheists have become just as annoying as theists.  If it isn’t “God will save you” then it’s “God is a fictional magical man,” “I believe in science,” or “I’m an intelligent, ethical being.”

Okay… do you also realize you’re a shitfaced prick?  I mean, seriously.  You’re a shitfaced prick.

How are they better than the theists who shove religion down our throats?!  They aren’t!  They are just as fucking retarded! 

Atheism is becoming the new “fad.”  I know so many atheists now, than I have ever known in the past.  And they have found their outlet: The Internet.  Google “atheist” and you’ll find thousands of sites.  Bible contradictions, evolution, atheist forums, religion sucks balls, Godless bastard websites.  If you want to be cool, go fucking atheist!  Apparently…

Any freshly created atheist has probably never read the bible and has just looked up an atheistic bible contradiction website.  Because you obviously can’t believe in God and not the bible.

What pisses me off about atheists is that they spend so much time on proving Evolution to the rest of the world.  Dumbasses.  We know Evolution is real, there’s evidence every which way you look.  The people who don’t believe in it are religious fucktards and who gives a fuck about them?  Why don’t you spend your money, effort, and time on something more productive: Proving Global Warming.  Okay, so it may have hardly anything to do with relgion.  But the Republican fuckers who say it doesn’t exist are Christian!  And just think, you could save the Polar Bears!  So fucking save them, assholes!

And religious nuts, I hate you.  You converting mo’ fo’s go to Africa to feed the hungry… and convert them!  Maybe they can eat your bible?  Teaching them the word of Jesus Christ won’t do shit.  After all, your God gave us free will.  Meaning, he won’t do jack shit to save them.  God is obviously a conservative.

Militant theists and/or atheists just piss me off.  You are labeling yourselves and others.  You are dividing the world.  You are creating hate.  Keep your damn opinions to yourselves, you whiney little fucktards.  Oh gee, I’m contradicting myself by whining about my own opinions.  I guess this makes me just as holy as the bible.  Oh and atheists, instead of getting “Under God” out of the Pledge, spend your time helping the poor or doing something really useful: shutting the fuck up.

I work at Subway.  Inside a gas station.  I work until 10 P.M.  By myself. 

Not completely by myself.  There are the gas station ladies.  Those bitchy gas station ladies who work alongside me.  I hate them.  They are what people call “confrontational.”  They find time from work to saunter over to my own work station and, in such a polite tone with the most astounding smile, tell me how to do my job.  Take out the trash.  Make sure you break down the boxes.  Don’t put the boxes in the wrong dumpster.  Sweep and mop the dining room.  Turn off the light.  Shut the fuck up, I was going to do that shit anyway.  That’s what I want to say.  But I simply smile and nod.  I can’t do anything else.  First off, I’m an extremely quiet, “shy” type.  And secondly, no one can mess with those gas station whores.  The last Subway girl to talk back was promptly fired after Gas Station Lady Bitch #1 told my manager that she had stolen money, that she had gone to smoke instead of waiting on a customer, and that she had forgotten to take the trash out.  So I smile and nod.

I wish I could say that the gas station hookers were my only problem.  But my customers are worse.

First, there is Headphones Man.  Headphones Man has one of those cell phone ear phones that he wears every day he comes into Subway.  He’s never using it.  And he doesn’t take it off.  I’m beginning to think the damn man glued them onto his damn head.  None of that really ticks me off.  What annoys me to no end is that this man just so happens to come in at the same time I do.  Meaning, I have to work right when I get to work.  I fucking hate that.

German Bitch.  I can smell German Bitch as soon as she enters the gas station.  She smells like a Granny who just had a field day as she walked through the make-up and perfume department at Macy’s.  This bitch stinks.  As I try to hold my breath and live at the same time, this bitch gives me an attitude.  And the make-up.  Globs and globs of powder and red lipstick and thick mascara and eye-shadow.  It takes more than that to cover up the irritating beast she really is.

No-Class-Fat-Woman.  This is the single most annoying customer that I have.  This woman has absolutely no class.  She is rude.  She’s fat.  And she disgusts me.  Since I work alone, we keep a bell in the front so that I can go in the back to do dishes.  Most people who don’t ring the bell just don’t know of its existence.  This whore knows it exists.  She just refuses to use it.  She will come in and at the top of her lungs she will scream, “Is anyone back there?!  I want a sub!”  I’m not exaggerating.  I will come out and smile.  I don’t know how I manage to do it.  I will make her sub and just as I’m about to wrap it, this bitch has the nerve to say, “Know what?  I want something else.”  I’m not exaggerating.

Old Flirty Guy.  I hate this bastard.  He’ll come in really, really late.  I have to close by myself.  I have a lot of procedures and cleaning.  While I’m in the middle of doing all of this, Flirty Guy will come in with a big bright smile.  And then he’ll say, “Give me a smile, Sweetie.  Why do you always look so down?” Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

Those damn Mexicans.  The absolute high light of my day.  These cheerful idiots always bring me joy.  They don’t know a damn word of English.  So they point at the menu pictures, the meat, and the vegetables.  On occasion, they will attempt to teach me Spanish.  Espinacas or carne.  At the register, these happy idiots will pull out a wad of cash.  Then, they will take their sandwhiches and cheerfully exit the gas station, along with their newly bought six pack of beer.

Picky Cunt.  I despise this woman.  She must have 4 pieces of this or 5 pieces of that.  I will calmly tell her that there are formulas I am required to follow.  She will complain and I calmly give in.  We’ll get to the vegetables and I’ll throw some on.  Oh no.  I can’t just throw them on.  She must have two pickles on this side and two on the other.  Only three tomatoes.  Those look nasty, she must have bright red tomatoes.  I have to slice up the already sliced up onions because, apparently, they are just too big for her.  By the time we get down to the register, I’m as happy as I could ever be because I just want to get that cunt out of my sight.

Tuna man.  I hate old people.  I really hate old people I can’t understand.  I can’t understand this old guy.  He mumbles.  I find it impolite to say, “What?”  So I simply smile and nod.  He orders the same thing every time.  Tuna on Herbs and Cheese, American cheese (not toasted, who the hell toasts tuna?!), tomatoes, lettuce, and jalapenos.  He’ll try to make a comment or two throughout all of this.  I smile and nod.  Only God knows what the fuck he says.  For the most part, he’s a nasty old man.  The only reassurance I have is knowing that he’s bound to die soon with the amount of poisonous mercury he’s consuming by eating all this tuna.

I hate my job.  When I come home, I am in the shittiest mood.  I always say I’m going to quit.  I say it everyday I go to work.  But I never do.  I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.  I feel like one day I could just snap.  I feel like I could take the onion scooper thing and gouge out the gas station bitches’ eyes out.  I feel like I could take a bread knife and slit Picky Bitch’s throat.  I feel like I could take a machine gun to work and just blow everyone’s heads off.

But I don’t.  I fucking smile and nod.

Anyway, I have no purpose for this thing.  But I’m thinking it will have to do with my obsessions.  I have a lot of them so I’m sure I’ll interest some people.  I like clowns.  I also hate mimes.  If this hasn’t been made apparent to you at this point, then you’re an idiot, go away.  To continue: I also like penguins.  They are cute.  I have a weakness towards cute things.  Kitties, puppies… you name it.  I dislike babies though.  They aren’t cute contrary to ignorant people’s opinions. 

Anyway, I’ve bored you long enough.  When, and if, I come up with a true purpose of this blog, I will post about it.  And hope someone reads it.