Oh shit, Sage Terrace...

Some people think this is going to constitute some ridiculous rant about made for TV movies. True, made for TV movies could be ranted on, but to be honest injun, they're not that bad. Someday maybe Charles Barkley will give up the NBA announcing business and just make made for TV rockumentories about his time spent with whatever deodorant company he was supporting. One can only hope. Not unlike some sort of giant squid eating dog crushing every third residence in my smelly as shit neighborhood I live in. This place sucks worse than a made for TV movie that you catch on Skinemax at like 1AM. Speaking of skinemax, one time I was pretty faced, and I'm watching this movie on skinemax. I don't even remember where I was, as I've probably been involved in roughly 2.5 living residences that ever had the cash flow to have premium cable. But whatever those 2.5 places were, I don't remember them. Might have a rugged Bob Chipeska-esque connection with my status of inebriation during this Skinemax viewing. Shit happens. Big squid eating dog shit happens. Without proper punctuation on that last sentence, I had the mental image of the 40,000 leagues under the sea fuck squid eating a pile of dogshit. And now you have that image too. What the urbancamo-christfuck was I talking about. Hang on, I gotta go back and read it. Holy shit, skinemax. I remember now. So I'm drunk, watching TV, and I flip it onto Cinemax. It was a movie about nuns. Or, at least as far as I could tell it was about nuns. There was this girl and she was like "I'm not sure I want to be a nun because I'm a woman and inherently a slut, therefore it creates a problem, because you can't be a nun and a slut." Which is why I don't believe in nuns. Because nunification is a paradox. Nuns can't have sex, but all women are sluts. Therefore nuns vanish in a puff of logic. Besides my drunkenly open defiance of nunnery in all its shapes and forms, I continued to view this cinematic masterpiece. I use the term cinematic masterpiece very loosely, much like this nun. The loose part that is. But I was enough pints deep that any promise of a 15 second titty extravaganza on premium cable could keep me glued to the couch cushion like that guy in american history x to the curb. Wow. Went a bit far there. But you get the picture. Like a skinemax picture at 1AM. I don't remember what the entire point of this was. Nevermind, yes I do. So the Slutty Nunnerator is all like, "I want to be a nun but I also want to bang (some guy)". For the sake of argument, lets call him Brad. Brad sounds like a name of a guy that would go around banging nuns on Cinemax. So Brad is all like, "Don't be a nun, let's do it in the back of the department store where I work." Pretty classy Brad, you know how to get those nuns out of the habit and into a mannequin storage facility ready to go. So she's like, "Well, I like god a lot, but I also want to bang Brad while the mannequins watch." I don't know what god was thinking at this point but I know what I was thinking, it was something along the lines of "Shut up and take off your shirt so I can stop watching this horrible movie". Probably what god was thinking too. So anyways, finally Brad woos her into the back room, probably with the promise of factory defect Yankee Candles and christmas coupons or something. So they go into the back, and I've had like 3 or 4 more beers at this point. I'm starting to fall asleep, but then they go into the back room and I think god hit me in the face or something and was like "here come the tittys son, pay attention." So my drunk ass musters up and pays attention. And Brad is all like "I like you a lot, you shouldn't be a nun, come work at my department store, and also, let me do you." And I'm thinking, way to be Brad, I've pulled cords on tickle me elmos during the christmas rush season and heard better pickup lines. But the nun, being a female, having a vagina, and obviously a raging slut by the transitive property, is all like "Brad that line was like factory defect yankee candles mixed with charles barkley deoderant, I will definitely do you." And I'm thinking, thanks for waking me up god, here comes the shirt on the floor. And Brad and Supersluttynun start making out. And I'm thinking, alright, I've been watching this shit for like 35 minutes, get on with it. And then all of a sudden her holy whorishness is like. "Brad I changed my mind, I want to be with god." And gets up and leaves Brad in a lurch. God turns to me, now sitting on my couch, and puts his hand up for a high-five. And I look at him and say, "You know what asshole? I sat here for 35 minutes getting all drunk with my bad self waiting for titties and in the end you get the chick and I didn't see any titties? This is horsehockey you asshole." At that point I think I tried to tackle god, but being god he just went away. The corner of my head struck the corner of the wooden futon. I woke up the next day with dried blood on the side of my head.

In summation, nuns are whores, guys named Brad can't be trusted, and god's an asshole.

Peace out, A-town.