June 16, 2005

Kiss My Ass, Take My Name

It may be a line from an Eminem song, but it pretty well sums up my way of thinking right now when it comes to my Freeper friends. They can kiss my ass and take my name.

Last night I damn near spat at my friend for telling me the reason my view on Terry "The Turnip" Schiavo were wrong is because my religious views were wrong.

Seriously. He's lucky he can walk today.

The only reason it came up was because after the ME's results yesterday pretty much announced what I thought the whole time about her condition and her husband's choices, it made me think a bit harder about the threshhold for making certain decisions. So this friend of mine (yes, he's still my friend for now) has asked me to be his attorney-in-fact for living will decisions and I wanted better input than what our state form says. I wanted to know what he wanted me to do in the event of his brain becoming butterscotch pudding. He turned it into "You don't know about God's grace or value life."

I wish I hadn't held back my views about his hypocrisy and his completely fucked up views on the death penalty and abortion and dying with dignity. As a matter of fact, he makes as much sense as a two year old on a pixie stik high with a mouthful of Jello. I love my friend but he's not nearly as high and mighty as he thinks and whether he realized it or not last night- he weakened our friendship by crossing over the line of "we can agree to disagree" into "I think I'm better than your heathen ass" land.

Maybe I'm not the best person to decide when to pull the plug on him. He can kiss my ass and take my name.


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