Pathwords

I really love pathwords, it's just the kind of thing I do well. Except for those times when I challenge Lacey, Jean or Ashley to a game, because the universe is against me. I know God is up to something.

If I play alone I could go on for hours without interruption, but set a timer and announce you've just challenged someone and invariably people I have not seen since the third grade will call me and want to chat.

Or the Jehovah's Witnesses will decide to bring reinforcements and have a go at saving my soul one more time. Sometimes they bring the Mormons. I am beginning to thing that I must be the Holy Grail of strange religious groups. I think they have signs for new recruits that read "Save Pilly."

I'm as saved as I'm going to get, people. I appreciate your interest but if you interrupt me one more time I'm going straight to hell for killing you and burying you in the backyard.

Just so you know.

I would also appreciate less paper. The Baptists are bad for paper. Not the real Baptists, those new ones that the real Baptists say are heretics on account of they made up their own church. I think Jack Chick is their Pope.

I know they are way more fond of his smudgy little tracts than anyone should be. So far I have had enough respect for them to just use the tracts to start fires, in future I plan to use them for toilet paper. Just once I would like to buy a book on some aspect of my faith without finding that some person has chosen to do his witnessing by crapping up Barnes and Noble's merchandise with tracts.

And not a nice, "I just want to convert you" tract. I am willing to be generous in my thinking toward someone who only wants to convert me. It's the people who issue invitations to watch me burn in hell and make plans in writing as to who should bring the potato salad for the wienie roast that are beginning to irk me.

Since they all seem to have memorized the Bible, I would like someone to show me even one place where Jesus salivates and approaches orgasm over the thought of everybody but him burning in hell.

Oh, for God's sake--don't go look. I made it up. We call that sarcasm, I know they don't have it at your church. We sell it with the Holy Water, that's why you never saw it.

They keep telling me I have a different Bible because I'm Catholic. If theirs does not omit why they personally are more qualified than God to run the final judgement, I am certainly in agreement with that.

I've got "Love thy Neighbor" in mine, at no point does it add, "Right up to the moment you tie him to the stake and light the fire'.

And if you're going to e-mail me about the Inquisition, just don't. I insist you read at least three books before we discuss it and they cannot have been written by Bob the Bible Thumper and endorsed by Jack Chick.

My church made a few mistakes too, seeing as how it has existed since Jesus founded it, but we have tried to learn from those mistakes and improve. Unlike some people who plan to roast marshmallows in hell. It's just a thought, but if you're bringing potato salad to the picnic in hell, doesn't that mean you'll be there, too?

And isn't hell supposed to be eternal? Are you really wiling to wait through eternity for the marshmallows to toast? Doesn't that strike you as odd?

I'm going with Love God and love your neighbor as yourself, which I suppose means I can't kill any baptists, but I still don't want to discuss religion on my front porch on hot days.

Cold ones either.