I had a Salvation Army story that I wanted to talk about in my new dinning room table post, but I felt like that post was long enough. So the story goes like this….I’m working at a warehouse with this weird motherfucker who had to be a virgin. He wanted to sell me a piece of shit bike for 20 dollars so that I could use to get to work, because I was always late when I took the bus.

So he asks me to go to his house to choose a bike. On the bus, dude starts telling me how he is a 3rd Generation Soldier in the Salvation Army. He said it’s a religious sect and that they go to church services and shit. By “they” he meant the married couple he lived with.

So I get to his house and meet his cult brothers and sisters, this married couple where the husband was about 6 foot 8 and in a back brace and the wife was about 4 foot 5 and 300 lbs. Either way, bitch had made a full turkey dinner and we ate on their front lawn and 5:30 pm.

Tons of hot bitches walked by lookin’ funny at me, cuz I was chilling with the freaks of their block.

After eating, then watching my virgin boss play with his crazy computer speakers and his “SINGLE” Murphey bed, I figured a way out. but the crazy 300 pounder bitch volunteered to drive me home.

We get in the car, she jacks up some Jesus music and prays for god to protect her on her drive. Bitch took that whole praying thing a little too fuckin’ seriously, because she was driving like Jesus was driving her car with his mystical hand. She didn’t look where she was going, she floored it and we almost died 7 times. It was the scariest thing I have experienced so I quit the job the next day. That’s the story I wrote.

So here’s a little Beyonce for you, because she looks like the kind of bitch who woulda worked at the Salvation Army if she wasn’t a singer. She does thank Jesus when she wins her Grammy Awards.

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