By: Ryan Fisher

It takes one hell of an event to get me to go to church. Not that I directly have anything against the people that are there, in fact everyone there was incredibly nice to me. It’s just not somewhere I belong. I no more belong inside of a church as I would at a vegetarians retreat or behind the stick?… (is it a stick or a wheel?) of an airplane.

The event that did get me to go, was a free benefit to raise money for school supplies for kids that couldn’t afford them. And if that wasn’t enough, they dangled a free Kirby Krackle concert in front of me, and well, it was kind of predestined that I would be going. Like I said before, everyone was perfectly kind… maybe a little to kind. The entire time I sat in that church watching the concert, I couldn’t help squirming at the phantom tingles of what could only be  my soul combusting. Burning and turning into ash for all of the horrible, vile things I’ve done, and for perversing their sacred building with my presence.  After all, I’m the guy that makes unicorns defecate gold pieces and encourage you to laugh at pubic hair jokes. Both of these, I’m sure, aren’t approved church activities.