That's me in the corner...that's me in the spotlight..

I don't think I've lost my religion; I believe my religion lost me. I used to go to church fairly regularly but I quit because my motives for attending were all wrong. Here are some of the reasons I don't go to church anymore, other than the fact that I live in Las Vegas and don't trust where that collection plate money is going.

I Hate Hymns - Hymns annoy me. They all have about five long verses and the chorus is repeated after every verse. At my church growing up, the organist studied music with Beethoven; the chick was old. The hymns were played at so slow a pace that every week we'd lose a few elderly from the strain of standing so long.

The terminology puzzles me - Churches have a weird way of saying things. At my church, when someone died, they wouldn't say they died, they would say, "Miss Smith passed from the church militant to the church triumphant." Huh? What kind of everything's just swell pollyanna bullshit is that? Oh, I'm so happy my loved one triumphed. Silly ass me, I thought she got hit by a bus. Of course, as a teenager I mocked this phrase relentlessly. We'd be on a youth group trip and someone would fart in the church van, and I'd say, "It smells like something crawled up your ass and passed from the church militant to the church triumphant."

Potluck dinners sicken me - I'm a big fat buffet-eatin' son of a bitch, so you'd think church potluck dinners would be right up my alley. No. For those of you with decent upbringings who are unaware of the potluck dinner, the church would provide the meat, usually ham slices marbled with about a metric ton of fat and grisle. Church members would provide the rest. Old church members. "Are those dentures floating around in the creamed corn?" "The secret to my brussel sprout soup? I strain it through an old hair net." "Eat your canned beets; they make you grow up big and strong." "Grandpa, can we stop at McDonald's on the way home?"

The Church Lady is real - There was always some nosey old bitch who lived to be in everyone's business. I wanted to smack her upside the head with a pew Bible. Would that have been wrong?

I started to come to church with a hangover - I don't see anything wrong with drinking on Saturday night, except for the fact that it makes church service, normally just a bit tedious, almost unbearable. Don't for a minute think God doesn't have a sense of humor. Every time I'd come to church hungover we'd sing two extra hymns; the handbell choir would play; I'd sit behind a wailing infant; there'd be a guest percussionist; and St. Gabriel him-fucking-self would come down from heaven and blow his god damn trumpet.

Communion wafers suck - Why does something meant to represent the body of Christ taste so abysmal? Communion wafers taste like styrofoam soaked in wombat piss.

Communion wine blows - The blood of Christ my ass. Who knew our savior had rot-gut coursing through his veins?

There were lots of things I liked about my church, but that is for another post.