Satan’s Favorite

February 28, 2011 § Leave a comment

His baby is no longer in danger of being a retard, which, of course, he’s plenty happy about and all that, but this kind of blows my whole vision of becoming the best “auntie” to the retard child ever. I had a clear fucking vision of the kind of saintly person I’d be, carting the tard around town, or just taking him to the park. I was hoping he’d have some special gear that would really make his disability pop when people saw us together, but I’d settle on a helmet and a leash. I love kids. Anyway, I guess I’ll still take this kid to the park, but some of the magic is lost.

I’m dating a Satanist. It’s really hard to take him seriously, likely because he takes himself seriously enough for two. Sometimes when we fuck, it’s fun to play around like he’s the devil, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to his church and letting his weird satan buddies drink my period blood. Boundaries, dude.

Anyway, the Satantist told me that the devil has some strict laws about not harming kids, because kids are his favorite. That just gets me in a funny place. Like, I can picture Satan raining hell fire on mankind, but drawing the line at daycares, the way some people break for squirrels. Or maybe there is some sort of TeenTigerBeat spread on Satan and in his list of favorites we learn that he liked anything red, eternal damnation, he always eats soft boiled eggs for breakfast, and he loves kids. Always wanted some of his own. Or maybe Satan has a telethon every year, pulling together an all star cast to raise money to help those poor kids who get stuck someplace awful, like Ohio.

The thing is, I don’t think Satan has spent enough time with kids to say they’re his favorites. A kid isn’t going to drive you to an orgy at the Playboy mansion when you come into town. A kid isn’t going to know a guy when you say you’re in the mood for a coke binge, and even if the kid does know a guy, they’re not going to fucking pay for your coke. Kids’ll just bug the shit out of you if you give them long enough, and I don’t figure Satan is best known for patience.

It doesn’t even matter that Satan isn’t real, because he believes that Satan is real and that Satan doesn’t want him hurting kids. This means that as much as I want to argue over the existence of the dark prince, I must move past that because it is more pressing to me to argue over Satan’s probable stance on ringing innocent necks. Swear to fuck, some mornings I’m sure that I only have opinions simply for the sake of telling other people how wrong they are. I believe Satan would like that about me.


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