lifestyles of the rich & blasphemous.

The other night, I was hanging out in my cave watching Haus Hunters International, eating pizza, and drinking a frosty brew. You know, doing me to the most. The people on Haus Hunters were looking for a haus in some irrelevant place I never want stamping my passport anyway, so I changed the channel and got the news that you can now confess via iPhone. There is literally "an app for that". So I thought to myself [Carrie Bradshaw], just how bad are you? I mean... I always claim to be a scumbag, but I never really thought to list my accolades. Guys. GUYS. GUYS. I have some seriously questionable morals sometimes but upon further inspection I have done some really messed up things to people. Townspeople should be coming after me with pitchforks for some of the stunts I've pulled. I'm a monster. I'm an ogre. I'm a Khloe Kardashian. What if I died tomorrow? I'd feel so sorry for everyone waiting in line behind me "at the pearly gates" while I tried to justify my shenanigans. It was time for me to get serious about CONFESSIONS.



I am not religious, but I was "raised Catholic". Anyway, religion is boring and I don't really care one way or another, so it's a non issue. However, last year I kinda thought about confessing my sins~ I was in Italy yall, can you blame me? I don't wanna bust a Jamie Foxx and Blame It On the Alcohol but I'd literally been drinking nonstop since we departed LAX, I'd been gallivanting all over Europe actin a fool, and I was surrounded by gigantic cathedrals aka the Cadillacs of churches. I couldn't help it, guys. To quote the great poet Usher Raymond IV- I got "caught up".



It had been a really long time since I stepped foot in a church, so I was hoping I wouldn't get struck down or burst into flames. Once I was safely inside, I started scoping people out to see what they did. I felt like a Corleone! Shit got real. I thought about how happy my Mom would be to know I went to church. I decided to go all out. I lit a candle, put it on a table, and pretended to pray. I found a giant bowl of holy water, stuck my hands in there, and splashed them around for a sec. I was really feeling this whole Being Catholic thing, so I decided to buy a rosary. I collect rosaries, by the way. THOUGHT YALL KNEW. The church had a gift shop inside so as I made my way over there, I came across the most amazing confession booth I have ever laid eyes on. I was gonna leave my hooligan lifestyle behind. I was gonna be a new ME. It was time to repent!



I thought about how great it would be to wipe my slate clean but the thing about confessing is I hate being put on blast, you know? I am essentially being put on the spot by the Priest to spill all the details of my greatest hits. What if he made me recite a prayer or something? I was new to the game! I mean I had my phone, but international roaming is crazy expensive so it's not like I could google the prayers or whatever. Apparently, my (filthy) soul is dry clean only and I couldn't afford to be lavish anymore. I thought about my choices. We were hitting up Prague the next day to do a pub crawl. Why spend precious beer money confessing TODAY if I was gonna wild out the next night, anyway? What was the point? I know Jesus is an excellent host since he wants me to drink wine and eat wheat thins at his haus and all, but the exchange rate really wasn't favorable at all! So, being the heathen that I am, I put my sunglasses on and bounced.

Fast forward 10 months later, and I guess Jesus tried to come correct and join us in the 21st century. Surprisingly (eye roll), the Vatican announced they weren't cool with this app and that you still had to come to church like people in the last millenium did. Plus, the app is $2, and as my friend pointed out- "That's two tall cans!". Glad I have the wisdom of my friends to put shit in perspective. It's just too bad I've decided to keep those trifling debacles to myself, they were juicy! Until next time...