Thanking God Prior to “The Marital Act”

As the handful of you who read my blog know, I have been dealing with more Catholic shit in the past several months than the demons inside me find tolerable.  Here are some of the “greatest hits”:

Natural Family Planning Interruptus

The Catholic Church, Tattoos and Sex

This weekend, Meggie and I attended the Arlington Diocese-mandated Conference for the Engaged.  Waking up at 6:00 AM was enough of a “fuck you,” but having to sit through seven-and-a-half hours of rambling and mind-numbing idiocy pretty much squashed any chances that I will ever EVER think about joining the church.  Meggie can go to church on Sundays if she wants.  I’ll stay at home and have pleasant Agnostic dreams.

One thing I forgot to do was install the odometer into my forehead so that after the conference I could see how many miles I put on my eyeballs.  No joke, I can honestly say that nearly every sentence spewed from the mouths of those people warranted a serious eye roll.

Generally, I find anything ANYONE says to be suspect if they cannot back it up with any sort of proof.  I am just like that.  It irritates the hell out of Meggie that I always have to have supporting evidence when someone says something.  So when the priest and self-righteous speakers at the conference started spewing all sorts of “statistics” and “facts” backed by their dogmatic faith, I went crazy.  Prefacing half of their statements with “Statistically this” and “Statistically that” drove me nuts.  At one point, Meggie stopped playing the videogame on her cell phone to stop me from rifling through the course paperwork desperately trying to find source material for these Catholics’ “facts.”

And yes, Meggie was playing videogames.  I myself was reading Chuck Klosterman’s Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs (a VERY funny book, by the way) and doing my best to block out rants on why birth control, pornography and homosexuality are horrible things.  During one of the breaks, Meggie and I discussed how weird it was that she and I were the only people (out of like 100) who had absolutely no interest in being there.  Not kidding, almost everyone in there was entranced by what these jokers were saying.  It was eerie and cult-like.  I don’t think I personally know anyone who could be so fascinated by that garbage.  Okay, maybe there a few imaginary people in my head who are fascinated by that sort of nonsense.  I’m going to go ahead and move them over to live with the imaginary Grizzly Bear.  Good luck, douchebags.

Much of my personality has been molded out of Beavis and Butthead.  This may be why I am a complete and utter jackass obsessed with fart jokes and references to genitalia.  If you spent a fraction of the amount of time I have watching that show, you would have picked up on the faces Beavis and Butthead make when they are completely horrified by something:

That’s the face I made when this middle-aged lady started tell us about her amazing sex life with her husband.  She told us her friends often ask her how she and her husband have maintained such a healthy sex life.  I certainly did not solicit the secret, but she told us about it anyways.  She said that before she and her spouse engage in the “marital act” (yes, this is what she called doing it), they both drop to their knees and pray to God for 30 seconds, thanking Him for the sloppy old people sex they are about to have.  Who does that?  She also told us that it gets her so hot when her husband tells her that he doesn’t want her to take birth control.  BLEEGGGGHHH!

I am so glad this thing is over.  At one point during this ordeal, I told Meggie that if there was ever any doubt that I loved her, me actually sitting through this so she could have a Catholic wedding should have killed that notion.

Now I’m going to go read pro-birth control and pro-pornography websites.

- David C. Garcia