I Just Can’t Take It Anymore

My parents are a couple of ram rods. I hate them so much. All they do is sit around and drink wine all night gushing and bitching about how much better they are than everyone else in the neighborhood, how much more pious they are, how much more Christian and charitable, which is of course stupid and unchristian but who cares about being a good Christian anyway cause those assholes suck eggs like snakes. But then they go to retarded church and smile and laugh and hug and talk and shake hands and everything with all the jackasses they were just moaning about! It’s disgusting.

Last Sunday I decided I was completely fed up with the whole charade, so I brought my girlfriend Camile with me, and I sat way in the back with her and kept my tongue firmly down her throat the entire time. At first she fought it, but I had told her specifically to wear a skirt that morning, and I just kept fingering her until she pretty much got too horny to fight me anymore. Not that it was any good for me. I hate Camile too, and she kisses like a dead fucking fish, and I hate the way the zits pepper her forehead, and her upper lip is always so sweaty, but it was SO WORTH IT to see my bitchy, worthless, unemployed mom start crying right in front of everybody. It was downright righteous, fuckers.

So then I just felt done with it, but fish-face Camile had gotten so worked up by then and was totally jerking me off in my stupid itchy church chinos—she had completely forgotten where she was, I think. I felt like everyone in the rat-ass congregation was staring at us, repulsed, which was AWESOME, but Camile’s breath always tastes like Hubba Bubba grape and I HATE Hubba Bubba grape. So I pushed her fat ass off me and asked her what she thought her fucking problem was, and she got all confused and embarrassed and started crying and everything. She got up to run out, and I began to follow her. Then I just couldn’t help myself. I had a big lunger in my throat cause my allergies in the spring KILL, so I brought it up and spat on the back of the skirt I had told her to wear. She didn’t even feel it, and she never saw it happen, so she just kept right on going with it dripping down the seam. Oh man, it made me laugh so hard that I almost fell down right there in the aisle.

I saw my mom and dad staring at me from their dumb ass pew, and they were most definitely NOT laughing. Good. Now the neighbors can talk about THEM instead, tonight, with their own stupid glasses of wine, with their own sons hating them while locked in their bedrooms and reading the Anarchist Cookbook.

I wish I knew what was wrong with me.