It's Ash Wednesday, time to go get ashfaced and freak out the heathens - er - Methodists.
PHubby has class tonight, so he's not going to church. Automatic Hell.
I have two choices: take the twins with me to a service dangerously close to their bedtime (Hell) OR risk eternal Hell by not going.
Look, my kids know how to say the Hail Mary at 3 and say it everyday, so I think the big JC might go easy on me this time.
I have to go to confession anyway, as PHubby so judgmentally reminded me (dick), so maybe I'll just lump all my sins together. Hopefully, I can get a discount on rosary recitations. Two laps around the beads: done.
Still, I'm fasting. That should count for something - at least on the scale (woot for Jesus).
Last Palm Sunday, the kids got their palms and started pointing them at people and yelling, "Stupefy!"
It was about that time, I taught them the Hail Mary. She's the only one who can save them.
Been super lame about the blog because my grad school app is due NOW, so ... I'll be back later with a real post. With visuals. You've been warned.
Every single year, I forget it's Ash Wednesday because I'm a terrible Christian, and i see people with ash on their forehead and I'm all, "Oh, how embarrassing for them, they have dirt on their foreheads." I hope Jesus forgives me for that one. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm kind of pissed I remembered it. Fasting sucks. I like it better when I forget to fast and then have to make up for it with an act of good will. Food is awesome.
ReplyDeleteGoing to church on Ash Wednesday really is only awesome if you go to a morning service, so you can be all judgy all day to people who have no ash. Our church does night services. It's like we're fucking Anglicans or something. What the hell is the point of being Catholic if you can't look all superior to everyone else?
I bow down to no denomination, therefore, I can sin and experience gluttony all year 'round... my gluttonous side is telling me right now to eat some pudding, so that's what I'm going to do...visuals to follow, since the pudding got down my pants somehow...
ReplyDeleteOh, thank God. That saves me from telling you to go blow yourself.
ReplyDeleteForgive me. I was mad you brought up food.
Stupify!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!
ReplyDelete*gasp!*
AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!
*sign of the cross*
You are NOT forgiven... smell that chocolate cake i'm baking?
ReplyDeleteShit! We were supposed to fast? I'm goin to hell in a handbasket, at least I'm enjoying the ride!
ReplyDeleteSteamy, I know! That's pretty much exactly what I did standing outside church last year. PHubby gave me one of those, "Pull yourself together, woman - were you raised in a barn?" looks, and I was all, "Um, I'm not the one who taught our children how to play stuff the Pope hates." Burned his pious ass.
ReplyDeleteOrganic Meatbag - Your mom eats your pants pudding.
Peggy - See? There's your out! If you forget, you just have to do an act of good will. Um, you commented on my blog, and I think that counts.
I do love your blog. I was laughing before I even finished the title.
ReplyDelete"Your mom eats your pants pudding."
ReplyDeleteLMAO... This is the million dollar bumper sticker idea I have been waiting for my whole life. (patent pending)