Just when I thought my house couldn't get any stranger, they let Jesus in. In an out-of-character foray into cleaning and organization, I opened a previously unused drawer in which to store phone books and there it was. The Bible. Sitting in a corner, the wee innocuous book that said (in my landlord's voice) "If ever there was a group of girls that would need this..." No thanks. Conversion by osmosis clearly hasn't taken hold, if the antics of last week are any indication. Trust me, you don't want me. If the running Mormons didn't get me and living with honest-to-goodness real, Italian nuns didn't convert me, then by-your-god, it isn't going to stick.
"Where did you put the take out Menu from Happy Garden?"
"Its in the drawer with the phonebooks and Jesus"
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You have a take out menu from Happy Garden?!
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