Thursday, June 14, 2007
The devil? Really?
Hey, what's the haps, pap? I am bordering on being really creeped out! Last night I was watching The Exorcist on basic cable, and even though all that devil stuff is totally a pile of hooey (can "hooey" be placed in a pile?), that flick really gave me the heebie-jeebies! I mean I understand that the devil is supposedly able to make you do weird stuff—but that poor kid really looked ugly! She didn't need an exorcist, she needed a dermatologist!
And ugh with the vomiting! And the PMF language! Goodness gracious, that devil certainly has a salty tongue.
Then there was that part where the girl was doing "that thing" with the cross. WOW. I mean, I know that doing "that thing" is a natural part of childhood and everything, but c'mon! Can she not start with a carrot?
This is such a PMF conversation, I'm going to stop right now.
My point is that I had to sleep with my lights on all night—and the devil doesn't even exist!
OR DOES HE?
A few of you commenters have made the suggestion that Damien may be the devil… which I think is kind of preposterous. Let's look at the facts: First of all he wears a muscle tee. The devil doesn't wear muscle tees! Secondly, Damien doesn't say anything like what that little girl in the movie was saying. All Damien does is quote Joey from Friends.
On the other hand, he does lie. And he does trick people, which Damien definitely did when he tricked me out of second base on my softball team and Trudy's affection (she's a bank teller that I like). And he's always stealing my bicycle! (He eventually gives it back, but the tires are usually low, and the seat is all moist.)
A couple commenters also asked if I've checked his scalp for the numerals, "666." No, I have not. Damien doesn't like people to touch his hair. I would ask Trudy to check, but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't do much to mend our current relationship. Besides, having numerals on your scalp just sounds like something those Bible writers dreamed up while smoking pot. What a bunch of stoners.
Anyway, I just can't imagine Damien jumping into a little girl's body and flying around the room like a crazy person. I can imagine him asking her out on a date though, EWW!
Anyway, tomorrow's the big day when I have my 3:42 pm five-minute meeting with my dad in which I am supposed to really tell him off. I am scared. I mean, I know I'm not going to die or anything, but my dad really intimidates me, so I'm going to have to be super-duper brave. Wish me luck.
And remind me to wear an undershirt. I sweat a lot when I'm nervous. Did you know that about me?