Winner, Winner Chicken Dinner, This is God Talking!

I once dated a guy who I thought was just a GEM. Tall, athletic, funny and hottttttttt.

I was full of swirly, girly, gooey, unicorn-magic kind of love.




Where there a few red flags? Well sure... a few.


But aren't there always a few? I mean, if they guy is super hot and has ripped abs, doesn't he deserve just a little bit of consideration?




But one night, the shit hit the fan. Like really hit it. Like blew chunks of poo all over my unicorn of happiness.




The rest of the conversation when a little something like this:

Crazy Town Boy: And, Kate... listen. I know we've talked about how you need a man of God to get you into heaven. And I'm your man, baby. But I'm going to start referring to you as 'my sister in Christ' and we should probably stop having sex too.

Kate: Come again?

Crazy Town Boy: It's just that, I really love you. I do. But I had this great conversation with God and now I just -

Kate: I'm sorry. What?

Crazy Town Boy: Now, Kate... don't get -

Kate: So you're basically dumping me.

Crazy Town Boy: I'm not dumping you, I'm just -

Kate: You're introducing me to your friends as your sister and we're not having sex? All for Jesus... because... your chicken.... told you to be a vegetarian?

Crazy Town Boy: No, Kate. Not the chicken. Chickens don't talk. That's just silly. It was GOD talking to me through the chicken.

Kate: I see.

Last time I ran into Crazy Town Boy, he looked a little something like this...

This is what being a girl-brained moron can get you.