06 May 2008


So, I just answered the door to my friendly neighborhood missionaries, and lo and behold, one of them (a tongue-tied big dorky dude) stared at my chest the whole time. Now, I can relate, because I stare at my boobies a lot too. But not when I'm evangelizing. I wanted to explain to him that my doomed soul was "up here," but that might've extended the visit. To be fair, when the doorbell rang, I was relaxing in bed with a good craigslist and had long since removed my bra, so the girls were free as the wind and right in the midst of their daily salute. And the best part is that as I kindly declined their offer to explain to me why there are many many apostles and prophets roaming around these days and began to close the door, Big Dorky Dude took another peek!!! Until the door was closed, I could feel his beady little eyeballs burning a hole in my shirt, as though I were being squirted with garlic-essence holy water. And as a confirmed sinner, I resent this. It was humiliating. My cupcakes, I've just been Jehovah's witnessed ⓒ.


Anonymous Catnip said...

Oh, you love it. And you'll probably get more like visitors, once word gets a round, if they can pass the word without seeming unholy. Hahaha!

Blogger Bug said...

I resent that, Nip, I really didn't. And I'm not answering the door ever again without putting on a sweatshirt or something first I'll have you know.

Anonymous stares@boobs.info said...

I am wondering if this makes me an evangelist.


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