Yesterday as I was lying down for a spell in the coarse grass towards the back of our house which is actually the front (but let me say many many steps down a path away from our dirt road), the Mormons came upon me. I was in possession of bottoms and no top as I lay sunning, bleaching my chest hair and bronzing my manly cheez nips.
First I spied the telltale shiny van trundling up the road. Not many cars come up our road and most of them are dirty pick-ups with grisly types at the wheel. I hurried inside to put on my overalls, the ones with the beer cup holders at the hips. I walked out the front door and who do I see trespassing down our path but two Sunday-best-wearing Mormons. In the heat, the young man wore trousers and a long sleeved shirt and tie and young woman wore a high-necked blouse and skirt down to the ground.
He said "Are you worried about the wars going on in the world?" Holding his Bible out in front of him. "Do you think it's possible that there will be a time when the wars end?" I said no. No I don't think so. But please have a very nice day. I smiled very sincerely. I wanted him to see that heathens can wish you a good day too. I also wanted to tell him that I was an atheist and I hate Christianity but then I might have actually had to talk to them for a while. No good on that. The cheez nips may have been visible through the overalls which was already creating a sinful, shameful vulnerability on the homestead. MM nervous. Go away Mormons. Next time I will have a super-soaker if you walk onto my land again. I am going to join the NWRA (national water-rifle association).