What in the hell is He thinking?!

Ok, Ok, now I know you're all excited to see that I have posted and can't wait to read what wonderful insights into life's mysteries I have gained over the last few postless months. Some of you may be so excited that you just peed a little--go ahead and get yourself cleaned up, I'll wait.

So life in the Fuller home this last summer has been busy. We went places, did stuff, saw things, had fun and blah blah blah. I am not one to live in the past so I will just go ahead and pick up where I left off. For those of you who may have read the last post I made some months ago you probably have come to the conclusion that I lack any sort of spirituality. Well I can't argue with that. Never have I once claimed to be spiritual. Well as it turns out the Almighty also caught my rant about storymony meetings as well, for He has seen fit to "bless" me with much opportunity to gain a bit o' the spirit lately.

Life has been busy lately. Ally has gone back to work teaching delinquents to carry a tune. I have gone back to school to try and educate myself a little more in the ways of the world. Business is business, busy at times and slower at others (thank goodness for small children and dogs who throw up in cars). Ally is set to pop out the 2nd born in early October and we have been preparing Janna by letting her take out her aggression on baby dolls instead of her forthcoming baby sister.

With all this going on somehow the Lord saw fit to call me as an early morning seminary teacher. Now I know what you're all thinkin: What in the hell is He thinkin?! I know, I know. In fact that was my first thought. But after a few weeks at waking up at 5 am every morning I have come to the conclusion the Lord pretty much plans to grind me into submission. It has nothing to do with my sparkling personality, my debonair looks, my witty charm, or even my keen intellect. Nope, teenagers at 6 in the morning really don't care about any of that. It all has to do with something else.

Ya know how when you're being bad when you're a kid and your parents tell you that someday you will have a child just like you? Well fortunately with Janna that didn't happen. But turns out when you are a seminary student your teacher says the same thing under his breath and somehow--whether because he has a closer link to the Almighty, or his volume of prayer is just higher-- his wish/prediction/prophecy actually comes true.

I am starting to get the hang of this whole teaching thing-- knock on wood. Things were better after I was able to convince the class that I was actually their teacher and not just a freshman they had never met before. Ya see, I have what one might call "boyish" good looks. For as long as I can remember (except for 2 years I spent on California and a stint in the oil field) I have sported a rather fashionable goatee. If you were to ask my high school football coach, he would tell you that I wore it to "cover up some of that ugly". Well I wasn't covering up ugly, just my chin. But there is a problem, after I shaved a couple weeks ago I couldn't find my chin! The damn thing had disappeared. I finally found it after I spent quite some time in the mirror stretching my face skin. Turns out it was there all along, being absorbed into my neck.

Well its near midnight, and I am not as young as I was 2 or 3 weeks ago. Perhaps if you are all lucky there may be somewhat regular posts on this blog. I am also on facebook now, but you will have to request to be my friend as I am WAY to cool to ask you first. Don't expect me to ever really talk to you on there either as I use it for really only two reasons: 1) To make sure my life is better than everyone I went to high school with and 2) I am addicted to the online poker, its my chief source for time well wasted.

And Then?????

So what? Now I am a bad person? Ya know what I am sick of? I am sick of sitting in a fast and storymony meeting and listing to people bitch or tell me about their ugly kids, their husbands awesome spirituality, or exhort me to heed this or that. Yeah, I JUST said that. Since when did going up to the pulpit and telling your life story qualify as a testimony? Ya know what, if you want to talk in church tell the Bishop, I am sure he can give you the hook up. That way you can have a whole 20 minutes to talk about whatever the hell you want. Why continue to subject a congregation, who is already hungy and tired, to verbal diarrhea just so you can hear yourself speak? If you want to piss and moan or tell your miraculous stories of how listening to Mr. Covey's habits changed your life then get a blog. And on top of all of that since when did not saying "amen" at the end of a rant qualify one to be looked upon as a son of perdition?? Just because you say it from the pulpit all of the sudden I am expected to slap my concurring stamp of approval on your incoherent speech with an amen? Somewhere someone is keeping track of all those "amens" we throw out as courtesy and I believe there will come a time when we will each have to account for all the times we agreed with something so pointless and stupid all because we feared scorn from our fellow people of the pew. If you want my advice, next time the young mother gets up and bawls her eyes out or the old senile woman talks about fish-assholes (true story, Jackie can vouch for me on this one) over the pulpit do what I do--utter an "and then" real fast and avoid eye contact. I seem to have found that one can decrease the scornful gaze of the so called "testifier" as they march back to their seat amongst the rank and file so long as you chime in with the rest of the half awake, totally captive audience. Try it next time and you'll see that a simple "and then" may save you a lot of guilt at the end of the day knowing full well you didn't fall into the the "amen trap" with everybody and trade your self respect for slothful conformity. AMEN.

P.S. I would have posted this Sunday night but I wanted it to boil within me for a few days so it would take full effect.

Its A Female Thing

Once again I have to thank Mr. Boortz for his ever enlightening offerings.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dfPjWQQDu3c

For My Mormon Friends Out There

It seems that every time I leave a Sunday school class, a testimony meeting, or any other "faith" related activity in which there are more than 3 Mormons present I must search out my cocktail of a xanax and an ultram to quell the desire to hit myself in the head with a hammer to end the pain. Since I am doing all I can to not join the ranks of Mormons who nearly single handedly support the Prozac and Zoloft industry, I have to get a few things off my chest. If you cannot handle the truth, you need not read further.

1. Big Love is an entertaining show. Deal with it. Its seems to me that the same people who pass the petitions around their local ward to protest HBO are the same ones who threw a fit when Mr. Dutcher broadcast to the world via "Brigham City" a typical Mormon sacrament service. I've never seen any of my fellow Mormons go to war when a Catholic communion is broadcast over cable TV. I guess we only fight our own battles eh?

2. Joseph Smith NEVER said that if one knew what the Telestial Kingdom was like, one would kill themself to get there. This is an old chestnut of the old school Mormons and yet in all my readings I can't seem to place the quote. In fact, every person who I have asked to cite where they get this ridiculous idea suddenly draws a blank and promises to get back to me on where they "just read it". Still waiting for that to happen.

3. The phrase "Sacred not Secret"? Whatever. You and I both know that there are things we are told to keep secret. There is no shame in that. Why do we always try to play it off as "sacred" when we are not equipped to give an outsider the answer?

4. Nephite warriors do not guard the temple doors at night. That's the damn dumbest thing I have ever heard come out of Utah.

5. If you believe that when you go to heaven people will kneel at your feet and that the corridors of heaven will become hushed because you lived at the time of President Hinckley, then you're an idiot. This was a favorite quote passed around all over California when I lived there. It was read over the pulpit more than once and was attributed to everyone from Henry B. Eyring to Brigham Smith. Its a bunch of crap people. No one will bow at your feet just because you lived at a certain time in the history of the world. Get over yourself.

6. Contrary to what many in my own family believe, no grandmother of mine ever saw Cain drinking out of a gutter in Salt Lake. Seriously people.

7. You can count those who qualify to be sons of perdition on one hand. Yet another fable passed down through Mormondom to strike curiosity into our hearts and give the High Priest Group something to debate.

8. Children who are disabled were those who personally led Satan and his minions out of Heaven after the War in Heaven, Or perhaps it was them that fought on the "front lines". Huh? Now I can see how this might bring some of us a little comfort when seeking answers to why some are born with things like Down Syndrome or Cerebral Palsy. I have a little sister who has CP and you know what? there is no explanation for it. There is nothing they did or didn't do to end up with such a malady. Sometimes shit happens. Don't cheapen their struggle by justifying it with a lame excuse such as these so that the world can make sense in your head.

9. John wrote the book of Revelation, NOT the book of RevelationS! Lose the "S"! I really hate this one.

Where is the wind beneath my wings?

I seem to have lost the wind that blows my blogging sails across the ocean of the internet. I don't really know what is wrong with me. I suppose like all new things, my interest has feigned. I apologize that I am not more like my sister, who, even though she has barely enough time to shop for "FS" bargains, still finds time to update her family business on the web. I suppose that my blogging habits lean more towards the side of procrastination rather than ambition. What I mean is that instead of catching up on the immense amount of over due homework that I have, I would rather creep and crawl around the blog-o-sphere. In fact I sometimes find it amusing to peruse the other blogs and leave comments under names such as "PedalFiler" and "40MarriedandLooking". Why am I amused by such simple creepy things? I don't have the answer for that. Although I will put a disclaimer out there that me and Swaney3 are not the same man. Wasn't it Norman Bates that said we all go a little crazy sometimes?

As an odd side note, I don't care what anyone says, Creed is what makes "The Office" work.

Not The Baby Anymore!

A Bad Omen?

So did you ever read that story in high school, I believe it was Hitchcock who made a movie of it, about the birds that turn on mankind and attack anything they can? Ok, well I am a man and I am not ashamed to admit that since I read that story I have been more than a little freaked out by those flying demons. Now I don't know why, but for some reason one of the freaky little fellas has made our front walkway its home over the last few months. It started out with our scarecrow family during October. ( by the way that whole thing about scarecrow's actually being scary must only apply to actual crows and small children because all the other birds in the neighborhood sure as hell weren't scared of them) Anywho, we had those strawmen sitting on the sidewalk and I'll be damned if a little sparrow (or a swallow, or a cardinal, or a freaking condor for all I know--they all look alike to me, as do Egyptians) decided to make my straw stuffed sweat shirt a home. Well when the fall decorations went away the Christmas decorations came out. Our little bird friend had to make a small move from the straw to the garland around the door. For the last month I have been having to change my underwear every time I come home because without fail each time I walk up to the door, that little spawn of Lucifer would dive bomb me.

Well as NORMAL people do, the Christmas decorations went away today--all except the pine wreath Allison convinced me to keep hanging on the door. Big mistake. As we came home tonight and unlocked the door it became very apparent that the rat with wings had once again relocated to the nearest bit of habitat he could find, our wreath. As the door was opened it was as if old Scratch himself had descended into our peaceful home and decided to wreak havoc. Although it was oddly amusing to watch that creepy little creature try and dodge the blades of the ceiling fan in the living room the fun flew right out the window (I know, bad pun) as I realized that my ever faithful wife, who had made a vow to stand at my side no matter what, fled with our small child to the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

I looked at the bird and he looked at me. This was my home and I had to defend it. After getting control of my bodily functions I turned off all the lights and opened the door. Locking myself in the garage I emerged with a weapon that could have only been created by the prompting of the spirit. Armed with my pool skimmer duct taped to the mop handle I was now ready to face this avian anti-Christ that had risen from the underworld if only to torture me. After a few close calls (I swear they aim for the eyes), it was I that was victorious. Slamming the door shut I gave the all clear. Once again I had saved my family from the brink of destruction.....OK OK, so I am a little dramatic, but have you ever had a bird fly in to your house? I mean does that even happen? What the hell? I hope this is not a bad omen for the coming year. Of course the bird was skinny, so perhaps it was a good sign??