Last week I found myself in single girl hell when I woke up to an unreachable and painful back zit.
I considered driving the two hours to my mom’s house for an emergency pimple popping session, but a four hour round-trip didn’t fit into my already busy day.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was busy fashioning a DIY comedone extractor by attaching a sewing needle to a wire clothes hanger when the doorbell rang.
I found two Mormon missionaries on my doorstep.
Holy shit, Prayers work! There, on my doorstep, was the answer. If they couldn’t pop the little fucker for me, they could totally pray it away.
“I am so glad to see you guys!”
“Oh, you are? Last time we stopped by you didn’t seem so excited.”
“Last time I didn’t need help in the bathroom.”
*Queue 70′s porn music.*
The color of their flushed cheeks was the exact same color as my zit. Totally meant to be, right?
Wrong.
“Um, well, you see… we aren’t allowed inside your house if no one else is there. There are very strict rules about these kinds of things.”
“Fine, but will you at least pray for me?”
“Ma’am we already do.”
These brats are praying for my eternal salvation and not for my adult acne. I’m not answering the door again until the Mormons understand my priorities.
Zits trump Jesus.
Always.
About Aiming Low Does Good
Those damn mormons! I hate it when they come to my door!!!
I hope you found someone to pop that zit! ;)
Twitter Name: LovinStilettos
Holy shit! I had a zit on the inside of my thigh the other day and every time I popped the fucker, it came back. Like, bloody hell!! My thoughts were, if I just lost enough weight so the thighs didn’t rub together I’d be golden. Fuck that, yo! I put a bandaid over it. The end.
Twitter Name: lotsospermies
Zits are evil. There’s no use praying for them.
I wish I was a smart as you. We will have to try something similar to your approach next time they show up at our door… Last time I said “Yeah, know your message. I may know more about it than you do. I grew up in the Church and went to a Church school. I made the decision not to participate.” Then they tried to give me their number in case I changed my mind. Scaring them off sounds a lot more fun.
Twitter Name: flitryss
This is hilarious.
Oh, i love you.
Hilarious stuff. I’ve been reading it all.
You just rock!
Twitter Name: gdrpempress
Next time, whip off your shirt right there, at the door, turn around and ask for salvation via a good squeeze. They’ll never bother you again. And, who knows, one of them my have a zit fetish and take care of it before the other flees the scene in terror.
Twitter Name: MPoppinsinHeels