Who's drinking the communion wine?!

So, Josh, how did you spend your Saturday night? At a Church. Well, I wasn't exactly going to mass or anything; I promised my friend I'd keep her company while we sat through Jesus-screamo bands. Yes, Jesus-screamo. Oh, and if me spending some of my weekend in a church wasn't enough, I erroneously invited my friends—whom were drunk. I'm such a heathen.

Funny, too, the night started well. Of course, I was sitting next to the speaker-- on a pew, poignantly enough --while some crappy band basically screamed in my ear for an hour. On the whole, things were going fine and dandy; I was making jokes about the church people, talking (yelling) to my friend who I hadn't seen in a while, and pretty much having as much fun as I could muster in a house of God. Then my other friends came. Literally within the first seconds of seeing them, one of them foolzly walked to me and whispered in my ear, "I'm d-ruuunk." Odd how many stares are directed towards you when you're holding a drunk chick in you arm. Finally, we sat down in a corner in the back of the room while she rambled on. She soon began to ask, "Hey, are you a Jesus freak?!” which was all well, that is, until she began saying that to the church people there. We took her outside, vainly thinking that there would be less people to notice there- there wasn't. Alas, the problem seemed to be alleviated for the moment, and it was, aside from the occasional blurting of, "Whoo!!! I'm down with the G-O-D!!" or, "I have Jesus in my baw-day!" At last, she went home (fortunately she was not driving) without no more that an couple of odd looks directed at her—which, one would assume would be normal when one yells “VAGINA!” in a church.

So what’s the moral of the story? I should probably just stay out of churches.