. . .and I seem to prove on a daily basis,
“Hell is other people.”
I walk out of a grocery store where a religious group was congregating. They were passing out pamphlets and things when I walked in but I walked past ignoring them. When I came out this one guy tried to block my path but I slide past as he said,
“Are you going to hell?”
Without turning around I answered,
“Why? Do you need a ride?”
The Bound & Gags Wonder Blog 
I sort of have the same problem with the girl scouts selling their cookies, except that I’m usually yelling at them to go to hell…
Those damn girl scouts!! They should be GIVING those damn cookies away! Then they’d have some takers!!
Maybe you should go back to the grocery store, and tell the guy to try giving cookies out with his pamphlets.
It’s cute how those people ASK us, when they are the ones who “know” exactly what’s going on with everyone.
I heard a good quote once and I wish I could remember it exactly (but of course that’s not going to stop me from butchering it trying to tell you!)
As a response to someone threatening you with eternal damnation for not believing what they believe:
“The Devil is part of YOUR religion, it’s HIS hell, so YOU go there!”
Nowhere near as cool as your response, of course, but it was the best one I had until I read your post!
Gotta love that question! My answer:
Yeah, want me to say hi to your mom?
For karmic fairness, when people tell me that they’re going to hell, I ask them to say hi to my mom. 😉
Gotta yang with the ying, David! (which, when reading, sounds much dirtier than expected).
When people ask about parents I tell them they’re dead. They always say they’re sorry. Which, of course, plays right into my hands.
“That’s okay, you didn’t kill them.” I pause while their face expects some horrific story. “I did.” I swear some people stop breathing until I let them go with. “Don’t worry. I was acquitted.”
Elena, it is funny how strangers know more about you than anyone in the world. I’ve told some of them if they know so much about future events they should play the lottery.
I do a quick one liner and exit. I’m not going to get into a discussion with them because it’s boring. They have all the answers in their quiver. They’re just waiting for the opportunity to fire. Why give them the satisfaction?
I’d rather tell my joke and have them spew shit in my wake. That way they have a heretic to talk about over their nightly flagellation.
Now that it’s been created, I really do carry the CCI pamphlet in my pocket. I was thrilled when I got to use it. I didn’t use it this time because it hadn’t been created yet.
I honestly didn’t remember this bit until I went to put it up. My girlfriend gets pissed when I say that. She thinks I should remember everything I’ve ever written. She doesn’t understand this was one ten second interaction that was followed by another one that went like this,
“Hey, that was pretty funny. Write that down when you get back to the office. Hey look! Sponges!”
I have many snippets in my day and, trust me, no one would want to remember most of them. I’ve learned to pick and choose what to jot down and what to let flow on past.
I love sarcasm and snippy responses. Kudos to you for being this quick witted!
oh my. love it!
Dude, you kill me.
That’s just mean. Those people are believers doing the Lord’s work. Why must you be mean to them? You’re only proving their point that the world is an evil place inhabited by people like you.
May the Lord bless you.
Passive aggressive or aggressively passive?
I can’t decide response is better, yours or David’s. They’re both awesome and I’m trying to drill them into my head so I’ll be ready the next time my doorbell rings. We have a problem with that here in EP. But some people send their kid to the door to deliver their self-righteous message. Got anything I can snark to an 8-year-old?
“Suck my dick.”
Trust me, coming from you, it’ll work.
But, knowing how you are, you probably want to maintain a sense of decorum so let’s see. Hmm. Let’s set the scene:
INT. WENDY’S OFFICE – DAY
A beleaguered Wendy is feverishly attempting to meet her never ending deadline.
SND FX DOOR BELL
Wendy stops typing and looks toward the door.
WENDY
That had better be a surprise free pizza delivery or I’ll kill.
Wendy saves her work and stands. She tromps from the office. We follow her to the front door.
Wendy opens the door to reveal a little rag-a-muffin 8-year-old cherub standing there with his apple-fresh glistening cheeks.
The child, because we do not know his name so we’ll call him SATAN’S BUTTPLUG, greets Wendy with the largest grin in the Southwest.
SATAN’S BUTTPLUG
Good day, ma’am, have you found the lord Jesus?
WENDY
I can’t even find my keys, you little maggot, what makes you think I can find some invisible guy in the sky? It’s about time you learned the facts of life you little twit. Jesus and Santa are gay. Everything your parents tell you is wrong. Hey, where ya going? I haven’t even told you your future as a drug-addled male prostitute.
The last sentence or two may have to be said running down the walkway after the screaming Satan’s Buttplug.
You can print it out and keep it by the door if you’d like.
Setting lower standards every day.
I will print this out, it’s spectacular! The kid probably won’t understand a word I’m saying, but I’ll say it anyway. Thanks!
Jeeziss we haven’t had a proselytizer at our door in ages. The last bunch, over 5 years ago, were some witnesses. It was midsummer, hot as hell, and the whole family was in the car in suits and ties. If only I’d known about Satan’s Buttplug back then!