12:15 pm

Oh my heck.

All right, wedding story was over, dang it. So I just settled in to watch the next show, which was called a Baby story. I was oohing and aahing and having fun watching the lady's tummy balloon along nicely, and then they showed the birth.

I mean it-- they actually showed it. I mean, isn't that a little too R rated for public television?

And, OK, are you serious? If that's what you have to go through when you have a baby, I'm officially sterile. When I get married... well actually, maybe I should avoid marriage. I mean, any Mormon guy will want at least six kids.

Well, at the rate I'm going, I won't have to worry much about it. My best prospects are brigham beard boy, who I think smokes weed behind the choir room, and ugly pants boy. And heaven knows, I have low enough self esteem already, without ugly pants boy's eternal companionship. I bet that, when we die and go to the celestial kingdom, he'll make fun of my robes. He's like that.

I'd probably deserve it, though-- I bet my robes will only stay white for a week, tops, before I wash them accidentally with red socks, or something. Do they wear socks in the celestial kingdom?

Oy. I heard the car come up. If mom catches me in front of the TV, she'll lecture me for a good half-hour. Off to bed. Spit spot.