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I have no life.


Yes, John and I were the most attractive couple at prom.

Uninteresting Note: as a result of the paranoia caused by my last stalker, I will refer to myself as "Bonnie" as opposed to my actual name. Bonnie really is much more fitting.

A LITTLE BIT ABOUT "BONNIE"


So, my everyday life goes a little something like this:
Wake up
Debate showering
Come to a decision
Debate brushing teeth
Come to a decision
Debate wearing clothes
Come to a decision
Go to school
Hide in my locker
Throw books at lunch ladies
Go home
Nap
Go to Bed.

Overall, it's quite the exhilirating lifestyle. I'd say it's safe to assume that I'm definitely the adventurous type...but it's really not. I try to live each day with the goal that, when I'm old and gray, I will be able to look back on my life and think of many valid reasons to use when trying to convince the doctor to pull the plug and end my pain and misery.

But my life isn't all fun and games. Oh no, surprisingly, I do a lot of very serious things with my time, such as:
Making jokes on serious topics, such as rickets.
Lighting teeny bugs on fire.
Mocking hypocritical church establishments.

A LITTLE BIT ABOUT "BONNIE'S" SIGNIFICANT OTHER


He's hot. Really. You should watch him play basketball, he's especially hot then. But don't get too excited, you can't have him. I'm probably hotter than you anyway. He's a rapper. Check out the J man's website, aight boiz and girlz? J to the Jizohn.

Boy Meets Girl; Boy Assigns Girl a Role Based On Gender

An excerpt from Joshua Harris' "Boy Meets Girl" (2000, Multnomah Publishers)
Highly Sexist Content

Chapter 7: If Boys Would be Boys, Would Girls be Ladies?
How to embrace your God-given role as a man or woman


Recently I came across a book entitled The Passive Man's Guide to Seduction. I don't recommend it. The book's basic premise is that women today want to be the aggressors in relationships-- they want to make the decisions and call the shots. In effect, they want to be "the men." Thus, the most effective way for a man to seduce a woman is to sit back, be passive, and let her take charge.
How romantic.
This couch-potato vision of masculinity is just one example of the current confusion about the role of gender in romance and courtship. And it's not just a secular problem. Christians are mixed up too.
My friend Mike was shocked when a Christian woman he was close to proposed to him. "You know I'd marry you," she told him one day.
"Do you want to get married?" she asked. "Look, I'll even buy the ring if it will make it easier."
Mike shook his head in disbelief as he recounted the story. "She was serious!" he said. "Woman aren't supposed to do that, are they?"
The truth is that we're not sure how to behave. Men don't know what it means to be a man, so we lazily do whatever is easiest. Women don't know what it means to be a woman, so they end up acting like men. Relating to the opposite sex can be confusing when you don't know what you're the opposite of.
So far we've been talking about how a man and woman can honor God as they make their way towards marriage. ...
For many people, the idea that a Creator assigns roles is offensive. They don't want any person, any religion, or any God telling them how to express their manhood or womanhood. They reject the idea of God-given roles and do whatever they can to blur gender distinctions.
The state of human sexuality today is like a play in which the cast is in rebellion against the playwright and his story. Imagine the chaos. The actors hate him. They reject their roles and mock the script. To show their contempt, some refuse even to read their lines. Other actors switch their roles nad costumes to confuse the plot. Still others read their parts out of place, slut their lines, and lace them with obscenities.
This is a picture of the wicked and perverse generation in which Christians are called to shine like stars. It's the generation of the "transgendered," in which men at like women and woman act like men. And it's amidst this chaos that God wants his children to be faithful to the roles He has assigned us, even though the majority of humanity has abandoned them.

I find this rediculous. God did not create all woman as subservient beings. God did not create all men as the leader type.
A FUZZY MEMORY:
I remember I was hammering on a fence in the backyard when Dad approached. He was carrying a letter or something in his hand, and he looked worried. I continued to hammer as he came toward me. "Son," he said, "why are you hammering on that fence? It already has plenty of nails in it." "Oh, I'm not using nails," I replied. "I'm just hammering." With that, I returned to my hammering. Dad asked me to stop hammering, as he had some news. I did stop hammering, but first I got a couple more hammers in, and this seemed to make Dad mad. "I said, stop hammering!" he yelled. I think he felt bad for yelling at me, especially since it looked like he had bad news. "Look," he said, "you can hammer later, but first--" Well, I didn't even wait to hear the rest. As soon as I heard "You can hammer," that's what I started doing. Hammering away, happy as an old hammer dog. Dad tried to physically stop me from hammering by inserting a small log of some sort between my hammer and the fence. But I just kept on hammering, 'cause that's the way I am when I get that hammer going. Then, he just grabbed my arm and and made me stop. "I'm afraid I have some news for you," he said. I swear, what I did next was not hammering. I was just letting the hammer swing lazily at arm's length, and maybe it tapped the fence once or twice, but that's all. That apparently didn't make any difference whatsoever to Dad, because he just grabbed my hammer out of my hand and flung it across the field. And when I saw my hammer flying helplessly through the air like that I just couldn't take it. I burst out crying, I admit it. And I ran to the house, as fast as my legs could take me. "Son, come back!" yelled Dad. "What about your hammer?!" But I could not have cared less about hammering at that point. I ran into the house and flung myself onto my bed, pounding the bed with my fists. I pounded and pounded, until finally, behind me, I heard a voice. "As long as you're pounding, why not use this?" I turned, and it was Dad, holding a brand-new solid-gold hammer. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and ran to Dad's outstretched arms. But suddenly, he jumped out of the way, and I went sailing through the second-story window behind him. Whenever I hear about a kid getting in trouble with the drugs, I like to tell him this story.



Learn To Hate the World! ||| Burn Down Tiny Villages in Zimbabwe! ||| Tell a Nun That She's Goin' Straight to Hell! ||| A Picture of Your Mom! Naked! ||| You hate me, don't you?!