If God Really Loved Me, He’d Give Me More Than A Granola Bar
It’s that time of year again. The Hope Fellowships Church is out distributing granola bars in the name of god. I got mine this morning (chocolate chip) from followers at the Porter Square subway station. Personally, I prefer the peanut butter chocolate chip granola bars from satan, but I guess I’ll take what i can get. Free food, is free food even if this granola bar came with a bar claiming that “This is our simple way of saying that God loves you.”
I actually don’t think he does. I’m gay and I don’t believe in him. Oh, and I use his name in vain a lot (often in inappropriate times, if you know what I’m saying – wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
Anyway, my weekend was great. Randy and I headed to the Cape on Friday and went to Seafood Sam’s with my parents (a belated Fathers’ Day meal). That night Paul, Heidi, Nicholas and Katie (my brother, sister-in-law, nephew and niece, respectively) returned from a medical conference they were attending and we played cards (after my brother spent an hour preparing Heidi’s nightly meds and TPN).
The next day we all went out and lounged by the pool. The others went in…my Mom and I sat in the shade like little old ladies are prone to do. Later that afternoon, my brother and I even played tennis. Well, we were swinging 30 year old racquets at 20 year old balls (which had lost all sense of bounce). More often than not we were missing the balls completely and flailing our arms aimlessly. It was still fun…and fortunately we had my niece there to act as ball girl – preventing us from having to run around too much.
Despite the sobering reality of seeing my sister-in-law (who in addition to having a complelely non-functioning digestive system and being confined to a wheelchair, is now legally deaf), the weekend was actually a good time for all. Randy took a family photo for us (the first I think we’ve ever done with my nieces and nephews) and I hope to post it by Wednesday (it’s on Randy’s computer and he’s traveling right now).
On Sunday, Randy left for his business trip and I got together with my friend, Deano, to share photos of our recent travels (Prague for me, the southwest for him). Oh, and we ate pizza. But this pizza wasn’t from god. It was from Ernesto’s.
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The sad thing about getting your blog through the RSS feed is that I missed your awesome picture that went with this entry. Agh!
Swinging a 30 year old racquet at 20 year old balls sounds rather appropriately gay.