It’s not that I am anti-religious. I just have my beliefs that it’s all a load of boohickey and thus, being my website, my word is final. Therefore, finding myself stood in a church the past weekend made for some interesting viewing.
It was a wedding. A happy occasion. Except that I seemed to be the centre of attention. I couldn’t work out why at first, as we stood outside the church waiting impatiently.
Who the hell made up that rule “The bride should be late”? If she was a train, I would want a refund. If she was a bus, the chances are that she wouldn’t turn up at all. Stupid rule if you ask me. My wife was late for our wedding. I almost left. I didn’t because not only am I a nice guy, but I was being held back by 3 guys and being tazered by the woman doing the ceremony. Which wasn’t in a church.
Which brings me back to why I found myself with more attention than I would have expected at a wedding in which I am just a guest. I hadn’t realised at first, and then I noticed people carrying packs of burgers and sausages. People seemed to be jostling for position near me. And then I worked it out.
Any moment, the words “Could you now take your seats” would be said. At that point, I was going to have to walk in to the church….and probably burst in to flames. I was a walking BBQ. I was the fuel for their collective lunch. People started to get closer and closer. I could hear the wrappers coming off of the packs of sausages. Hell, I even heard one person say “How long do you think he will burn for?” Then kids got involved. “Mummy…can I have the marshmallows now!” they said excitedly, prodding me with their sticks hoping that I would go up soon.
But I didn’t burn. Because I had put on my new cologne…”Crimson King” by El Diablo. I was safe.
As I took my seat, I did notice just one thing. Churches are notoriously cold (I mean there isn’t much money in religion is there…according to Mr Pope who lives in a broken down shack in Italy which he calls called The Vat-eye-can. This church on the other hand was actually very warm.
And then I realised the heat was coming from the floor.
Yes, the house of god was heated from the floor. Or from hell if you may. I mean really…if you are a church, do you really want your sheep thinking “Hey, it’s friggin FREEZING in here…but boy is it toasty down there! Sure, it is my eternal soul if I head south, but geez…at least it is warm and I dont have to spend eternity with these stupid wings.
I also noticed that as the bloke at the front in the dress (no, not the bride…she was female and looked lovely) said “….and there is a collection plate. Without it we will be down to our last £44BILLION and we cant have that now…so…put money on the collection plate OR YOU WILL GO TO HELL!”, the floor actually got warmer. Good timing by the heating…or an actually an honest to god threat?
Either way, I wasn’t gonna find out. I reached in to my pocket and got my camera out and took some photos. I didn’t have any money on me.
I would continue this story about what happened as the day went on, but this is a family site (he says, just talking about bursting in to flames in church) and we can’t have the kids reading about:
Tried stealing a golf cart
Wife enjoyed lesbian kiss
Hotel is now missing stuff
I dance like a man with about as much style as a three legged pig wrapped in a bin bag trying to do the Macarena
…and some other stuff which we wont go in to.
And if ANY of you tell someone I know that I drunkenly danced to Bon bloody Jovi…..there will be blood.
wheelturninghamsterdead.com 