I bomb my cats with pillows when they are sounds asleep, then laugh maniacally about it. I then scold my husband when he does the same thing, insisting that it is mean and besides, how would he like it? But when no one is around… BAM! BWAHAHA!
I have a super secret crush on Jimmy Pop Ali. That I can’t stop talking about. I am super sweet in public, but deep down, the chorus to “Shut Up” really resonates with me: And I don’t give a damn if you don’t like me 'cos I don’t like you 'cos you’re not like me. Nya, suckers. I didn’t say it, but I’m thinking it!
I put ketchup on my hot dogs. Horrors!
So what minor things are you going to hell for? You know, those teensy, tiny little things that you do that immediately afterward you think you catch a brief whiff of the old brimstone tickling your nose-hairs? And yet, you know you won’t stop?
I’m really a mean person, though you’d probably never guess it if you met me. I’m very polite and pleasant to all around me, but I’m actually misanthropic, impatient, curel, arrogant, hostile and snide.
I mock the Jehovah’s Witness employee in my office, regularly, behind her back.
This may seem heroic in some circles, but let me say that this girl is sweet, pleasant, and helpful, does not unload her beliefs upon anyone here (tho she will express them if asked), and has in the past gone out of her way to help & accomodate me, specifically when I went thru a serious bout of depression last year.
I’m sadly evil, and I anticipate a personal eternity of unrelenting weather such as that on the East Coast right now.
Yep, that’s me. Someone’s blathering on and on about whatever, and I’m smiling and saying, “That’s nice” but I’m thinking, “Shut up already. You’re boring and I don’t care!”
And I put ketchup on hot dogs. And I cuss a lot.
I’ve been known to pillow-bomb the dog when she’s sleeping peacefully.
When my pugs were alive, I used to torment the jealous one. I had a life-sized stuffed pug which I usually kept hidden in my closet. Every now and then, I’d get it out and hold it in my arms as though it were alive, pet it, and tell Chubby that it was the newest pug and that she should become friends with it and love it. Chubby would glare and howl and woof at the hated newcomer and eventually run downstairs so she wouldn’t have to see it anymore. Then I’d put “newbie” away and get the cold shoulder from Chub the rest of the day.
I was so mean. But she was so funny and human in her jealousy.
So at State, we have this club, the Sublimely Awful Movie Club. The fare of the week was a horrible piece of shlock called “The Brain That Wouldn’t Die”. I had made my way in, prepared for a night of good, clean, MST-style fun. My mind had other ideas.
The title screen had just come up, when unbidden from my lips flew the words:
“The Terri Schiavo Story”
I am going to fry in Hell for a very, very, very long time.
I lean down to my cat regularly and say in honeyed tones, “I really wish I had left you at the Humane Society.”
I kick appliances when no one’s looking.
I think the worst of my fellow man-as I get older, I speak my thoughts more and more.
I castigate my husband for being mean to the cat, but inside I’m all “yeah!”
When my neighbor’s dog craps on my lawn I pick it up with a shovel and fling it in the general vicinity of their front door. But really, if it was a big enough sin that I’d go to Hell for it, would God have blessed me with such good aim?
Not to hijack but TBTWD was actually ON MST3K, IIRC. It was Mike’s first episode. Was it the one where:
Oh-I like to torment my cat Maggie by picking her up. She HATES being held with a bloody passion and will kick and squirm and cry like the devil. So I pick her up all the time.
D’oh, Anaamika, I missed where the OP said that too. It IS Heinz ketchup, right?
It’s the only kind.
And as an aside, Bobo: I don’t believe in a Christian god, and my beliefs aren’t up for discussion, so I suppose my spot in hell is pretty much guaranteed. Or not, since I don’t believe in hell. Well, all the more surprise when I get there, I suppose!
It’s ok, I was kind of trying to make a whoosh joke, like I didn’t get the premise of the thread. It’s really a shame that no one else finds me as funny as I do. This isn’t the first time, I promise!
I crack me up, I really do
I like to rub my cats belly until she growls, then stop and scratch her head just enough that she forgives me, then I go for the belly again. MWA HA HA HA HAAA!
Ok, howzabout telling my kid (he was maybe 4 or 5) that the reason they cremated Qui-Gon Jinn (and the other assorted Jedi) is because he was too big to flush.
