the mormons are coming

i have a problem, a big problem. i can't get rid of mormons. i know that doesn't sound very serious, but it is. for the last 6 months or so, i've been being harrassed by old people with horribly illistrated brochures on my life in hell. the absolute best part of being harrassed about religion by the elderly, is you can't be rude. how do you tell the nice sixty something year old gentleman on your porch that you are perfectly happy as a heathen? no really, because i tried and failed. you would think they would make it seem a little bit more attractive if they really wanted to sell it though. the watchtower is great, and the religion sounds great, if you're a cartoon girl with a wheelchair. the illustrations say that in that case, you can be healed. i don't need healed, i need a stiff drink. will one magically appear by divine intervention when i'm having a bad day? if not, i'm not sold. my most common attacker is polite, well spoken, and utterly ruthless. i love when he shoves these brochures in my face, smiles and nods at each child as we're interrupted roughly 16 times in five minutes, and keeps going. he tells me that all these children are just gorgeous (fucking liar, they ARE gorgeous, but strangers don't seem to notice when they're pulling my old t-shirt to shreds and screaming that they MUST HAVE CHOCOLATE MILK or asking me who the weird man is and what he's talking about), and then asks me, "Don't you think they DESERVE to have god in their lives?!" actually, i think they deserve to have their mom in their lives, or at least in the house. i mean, how many different children with sagging diapers does he need to see before he realizes that alcohol, pampers and toys r us are the reigning champs in this house?