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Me
& the girls pose with the Big Guy
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On
August 9th, 2003 Manhattan fell under siege by the ruthless,
immoral and adorable Unholy Army of Catholic School Girls...
and what fun we had!
I'm so proud of my
little darlings. I mean, they're so Unholy!
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even lured me into a church (God I hate those), and we
knelt on one of those weird little doohickies and posed
with the Big Guy Himself up there on that "T"
thingy. What do you call it again? Bah, nevermind. You
know what I'm talkin' about. The thing He died on! Anyways,
it was neat. |
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Then we strolled
up and down the streets of Times Square handin' out GOD
IS FAKE fliers, spreading joy and hassling the tourists.
At one point my
little darlings insisted on going into Virgin Records. Why
they're so drawn to that name is beyond me. They get an idea
in there head and you just can't talk 'em out of it. Once
inside everyone scattered! Fliers, stickers, curse words and
skirts were going in every direction. The place was a buzz
with our presence.
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Our family in Times
Square. Gosh we look like such tourists! |
Anto
raids the Starbucks creamer station |
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In all the
madness I decided to work my way to the emptiest part
of the store and browse for some favorites. It
was nice to get away from the crowd.
Hey, do you
know when you're tryin' to find one particular CD, and
you're sure you're in the right area
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Normal
Bob browsing |
where it should be
filed, and everything is alphabetized correctly but you just
can't find what you're lookin' for? I mean, you're standing
right there and sayin' to yourself, "This is where it should
be and it isn't here!?"
Then you ask the
clerk and you're told that "Christian Death" is actually filed
under "Rock"? Yeah, so now you know.
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Later I went and moved it
to where it should be. They are NOT Rock! Puh-leeeze!
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Then we saw one
of the saddest things you could ever imagine. A man who seemed
especially lost. Someone who apparently hadn't yet heard the
good news about God.
He, like many believers,
seemed to be so set in his ways, but my brave little troopers
were quite persistent.
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The
poor misled preacher man
(Click
to see larger image)
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I know that their
tiny black hearts break in two when they see someone so lost,
so misled, and so short that he has to hide stilts under his
pants.
So we strolled
and blasphemed for a better part of the day. My
darlings seemed to be doin' more playin' than workin', but
I didn't mind.
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Their
happiness is what matters to me most. That, and their eternal
souls.
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The
Unholy Army wants YOU!
If
you would like to be added to the Unholy Army's mailing list, click
here.
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