Fucking Wiccan

Fucking Wiccan

I am such a dumbass.

I was rereading my post from earlier, the one I wrote in a tizzy, because I was off to get The Girl from school, and my mother in law was hovering in the kitchen nearby (she watches the boys for me when I go get The Girl at school)... wondering what it was that I write in everyday and then quickly X out when she enters a room. (Not that there is anything in here about her, because I am smarter than that shit).

Anyhow, I put "... you will see how fucking insanely wicken Mother Nature can be."

Yea, Mother Nature is insanely Fucking Wiccan. I am such a typo asshole.

I should ask my husband what it is like to fuck a Wiccan. I used to be one. And he used to fuck me, so hence, fucking a Wiccan. Get it?

Yea, I was once a wanna-be Wiccan. I was such a stupid ass. I should have known that the Catholic Church had my soul and brainwashed me so badly, that being an open minded and curious adult would NEVER work out for me. So, I went back to being a Catholic. A "Pillow Church" Catholic. The kind that says "Thank you Jesus for being there for me and giving me my husband and my babies and for giving me breath and food and stuff, Amen" while I am half eye open and half eye closed in bed at 10:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning. That kinda Catholic. The one pissed off at the church for saying I am not a "REAL Catholic" because I don't hand over the envelope with ten bucks in it each week, so that they can get pretty marble floors and gorgeous stained glass windows depicting The Stoning Of St. Stephen. If such a thing can be gorgeous.

I don't need nobody to tell me that Jesus be loving me.

Jesus loves me, this I know. Cause my Mama told me so.