Apparently, Katie Holmes is going through with her crazy whack-a-do wedding to that freak Tom Cruise this weekend. I cannot even begin to fathom the amount of alcohol and prescription medication it would require to get me to marry a devout Scientologist, even a filthy stinking rich one. Now, to be fair, all that I know about Scientology, I learned from watching South Park. But Trey Parker and Matt Stone know their shit. Now, you can try to learn more about Scientology – but go ahead and Google it – you really have to dig to find anything. For an author, L. Ron Hubbard really likes to keep things secret. It’s really just much easier, and I guarantee it’s more enjoyable to just sit down and watch ‘Trapped in the Closet’.
My advice to Katie is to run. Cause I know a thing or two about cults. My roommate is the queen of ManicLand (thank you, craigslist!). Her mother is a ward of the state thanks to her attempt to drive up to heaven in a 2004 Chrysler with a 6-foot statue of the Virgin Mary in the trunk and apparently my roommate has inherited the lunatic gene. She fluctuates between being an independent, outspoken, liberal lesbian – which is the personality she was wearing when I met her – and a devout reborn again Christian who thinks homosexuals burn in hell and comes home spouting off about the gospel according to Pastor. Not Pastor Bob or Pastor Dave. Just Pastor. And Pastor has the ability to perform divine healing; my roommate has seen it with her own eyes. Impressive, huh?
Living with a person that has multiple personalities means I never know what I am coming home to. My roommate is on one of her God kicks right now. Whenever I come home to Sister Psycho, I want to kick her in the crotch, kidnap her dog and run away. Vermont sounds like a nice, unbiased state. My lease is up in four months and if I can get through it without going all jihad on her ass, it will prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt the existence of a supreme being.
Now, I consider myself to be a decent roommate. I am by no means perfect, but I am not a total slob and I don’t hog the bathroom or throw loud parties. But I am seriously religion intolerant when it comes to zealots. Nothing good comes from intolerant bigots cloaking themselves behind the Good Word. So trust me, Katie, when I say run. Run far away. And don’t look back. No one will hold it against you. I stumbled in to a cyanide-laced kool-aid world by accident, but you, Katie Holmes, you can see exactly what you’re walking into. It will be really hard to feel sorry for you if you actually go through with this farce.
My advice to Katie is to run. Cause I know a thing or two about cults. My roommate is the queen of ManicLand (thank you, craigslist!). Her mother is a ward of the state thanks to her attempt to drive up to heaven in a 2004 Chrysler with a 6-foot statue of the Virgin Mary in the trunk and apparently my roommate has inherited the lunatic gene. She fluctuates between being an independent, outspoken, liberal lesbian – which is the personality she was wearing when I met her – and a devout reborn again Christian who thinks homosexuals burn in hell and comes home spouting off about the gospel according to Pastor. Not Pastor Bob or Pastor Dave. Just Pastor. And Pastor has the ability to perform divine healing; my roommate has seen it with her own eyes. Impressive, huh?
Living with a person that has multiple personalities means I never know what I am coming home to. My roommate is on one of her God kicks right now. Whenever I come home to Sister Psycho, I want to kick her in the crotch, kidnap her dog and run away. Vermont sounds like a nice, unbiased state. My lease is up in four months and if I can get through it without going all jihad on her ass, it will prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt the existence of a supreme being.
Now, I consider myself to be a decent roommate. I am by no means perfect, but I am not a total slob and I don’t hog the bathroom or throw loud parties. But I am seriously religion intolerant when it comes to zealots. Nothing good comes from intolerant bigots cloaking themselves behind the Good Word. So trust me, Katie, when I say run. Run far away. And don’t look back. No one will hold it against you. I stumbled in to a cyanide-laced kool-aid world by accident, but you, Katie Holmes, you can see exactly what you’re walking into. It will be really hard to feel sorry for you if you actually go through with this farce.
1 comment:
I would marry tom cruice and become a scientologist even though I heard from my friend stacy who is a second rate actress but did a movie with julia roberts who did a movie with nicole kidman that he has a small penis and doesnt even know how to use it. He is waiting on aliens coming back to tell him how to do it right. But anyhow, I would still marry him because scientologist have access to that HUGE yatch. And because I am just so tolerant of other religions.
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