Cleansing With Hellfire
I’m gonna just start out saying that I probably forgot some events that have happened this past week. I usually just grab my journal, which I write in every night, and bring it to the church on P-day to dump all the information that I have into these emails. But I forgot that journal. So I’m just gonna actually have to remember what happened using my brainpower, which I’m not a fan of. So let’s get this thing rolling, because that means it’s gotta go downhill, as it inevitably will.
These tales of mine will probably be way out of order, but honestly, who cares? Anyone reading this better not. The important thing to know is that we are moving from the house we live in to this wacko apartment place. And that has kinda been a week long process.
Alright we’ll start with: The Hammock.
So of course this starts back at day 1: When we got to the house for the first time. We found that on one of the walls there were these massive holes in them where the previous elders hung up a hammock. Inside the house. So yeah, they just RUINED that wall. So we took the hammock and threw it in the closet. But we then were talking to Sister Christenson, the mission president’s wife, at new missionary follow up (which is gonna be a later story, so grab your lions and tigers and bear with me). But we told her about that hammock and the wall and what we should do since we’re leaving. After hearing all this, Sister Christenson said, and I quote her exact words, “Could you elders please get rid of the hammock?” So we pledged our undying loyalty to getting rid of that hammock.
Now, the house we lived at had a fire pit, so of course every single one of us was ready to purge this thing with hellfire: a baptism of flames sorta ordeal. And so throughout the week, as we’re cleaning out the house, we’re finding things that we need to get rid of and throwing them into the “fire pile”, which was all the things we were gonna burn. Then on that fateful night, which I don’t remember the exact night, because I don’t have my journal, we went out to the fire pit with various chemicals, a couple bottles of lighter fluid that we found, and all the stuff to burn. We practically DROWN this hammock in lighter fluid and after we run the pile of stuff to burn dry, we arrive at the finale. We grasp our soaking wet hammock and drag this thing to the fire pit like we’re getting rid of a body. We lift it up over the fire pit, and just send it in like a package addressed to Satan himself. Oh the inferno that ensued was glorious, and the neighbors probably believed we were in a cult by the way we were chanting, “Sister Christenson, the hammock has been rid from this world!” Fun times.
This next story is just an enlightening experience for me personally, because I became more humble as a man and learned some valuable life lessons. So ya know how on Halloween, you can buy a big bag of candy, and in that big bag, there are those eyeball gums. The ones that you think have the eyeball design on em, but it’s just the wrapper and you feel lied to as you chew on some trashy gum? Yeah, those things. But we got this big ol’ bag of candy from sources we don’t need to get into, and we put all of it into this big red plastic bowl we had at the house. So over the course of time, soon all that’s really left are the stragglers of good candy, and a butt ton of those eyeball gumballs. So of course I’m like, “Ya know what, sure, I’ll have some gum.” And I pop one in, chew the flavor outta it for all of 40 seconds, and then grab another gumball and toss it in. This then sparked the idea: How many of these grody gumballs can I fit in my mouth? So I start piling them in, ball after ball, bite after bite. The wrappers are filling my desk as my jaw is kicking it into TURBO CHOMP MODE and the raw mass of gum proceeds to build. I eventually reach for another gumball from the bowl and find that there aren’t any left. I double check we don’t have more because I KNOW that I have yet to reach my limit. I then take a second to work the gum in my mouth as my spit is just about to ooze straight onto the floor. I throw my head back and retain everything, but my jaw is feeling the hurt from chewing gum for 30 minutes. I announce my victory through my flapping lips as I pull the golf ball sized hunk of gum from my big ol face hole. After I got some water and went through psychological regret, I came back and counted the wrappers. Only 29 gumballs. I could’ve done more, but we had none left. To everyone that is reading this, I formally challenge you to try and fit all the eye gumballs you have left, and if anyone can beat my 29, please email me and tell me your record, so that next Halloween I can SHATTER IT INTO PIECES.
Now as I’ve been writing my email this week, the other missionaries have been harrassing me for writing such long emails, and saying that I will die out of writing long emails. Well I would argue with them if they weren’t all a bunch of chumps, because I will NEVER YIELD to their negative attitudes and Debbie Downer lifestyles. So if you actually read my emails, thank you because I usually make these things LONG AS SOCKS.
This next story needs the background of me finding this big weighted jump rope in the house, and us owning this little wax melter thing. After I had found this rope, I made like old Indiana Jones and begin to crack it back and forth at some boxes we had. Lemme tell ya something: I was on my way to becoming a force of weaponized mayhem, literally tearing holes in boxes with nothing but a whole bunch of thread woven together, when Elder Marler pulled the plug on the fun machine, demanding to see the rope. He grabbed one end of it, expecting me to put up a fight, and ripped it like a Beyblade champion finalist. I just had this really loose grip on the rope and this blur of black carnage flies like a sniper rifle bullet DIRECTLY INTO THE WAX MELTER, SPREADING THAT STUFF LIKE IT’S THE GOOD WORD OF GOD, ALL OVER THE NATION. For some unknown reason, Elder Marler tried to blame me for this disaster, but he knew full well that he was equally to blame, if not more.
This next one isn’t long at all, but basically we carpooled to this thing called “New Missionary Follow-up”, where we have to go and check in with the mission president and listen to some good words of advice. We carpooled with Sister Nakai and Sister Wendt. They’re both home-run missionaries and really cool people, but when you’re on a mission, you like, literally can’t look at sister missionaries for too long, let alone touch them, or you’ll get in trouble. So of course I get thrown under the bus and into the backseat of the car. It was an hour and a half drive up there and that doesn’t sound TOO bad, except I spent most of it doing straight car yoga to avoid being an apostate missionary. It got hard on the way back when both the sisters fell asleep and was just spider-manning onto the window, with my legs arching onto the console. I got a good core workout at least and we had a grand ol’ time up there.
Well I don’t have all the other snooztastic tales of mine within easy access, so I’ll run you through the rough ideas of things I remember. I created a group of individuals that follow and perform acts and have the same ideals called “The Association Organization”, and found all the associated garb that I wore to express things such as honor and humility. Elder Spillman was a part of my group of like minded individuals, but Elder Marler decided to leave in open rebellion and start his own group called “The Dastardly Disassociation Disorganization.” I felt attacked and betrayed, and it took me a bit to recover. After a couple of altercations betwixt the groups, we finally joined hands in alliance and moved past our differences, progressing toward a brighter future.
Then we also had the zone leaders, Elder Martineau and Elder Su’esu’e, come down, because they had a truck and helped us move. We had fun just chillin’ with them for 2 days doing some missionary work and such.
More stuff happened I’m guessing, but this email is REALLY long and I’ll just leave that stuff out. Thanks to any real homies that read my emails all the way through! You’re a cool person and I appreciate it. I’ll email next week and actually remember my journal so it’ll work all good.
I also actually have some pictures and I’ll throw them on here. In no particular order:
- My hand after an unfortunate rope incident
- The Alliance of our groups
- The eyeball gum episode
Over and out
P.S. So in my mission, there are some sisters that requested getting a shout out in my email. Now if they do something that is worthy of my weekly email, of course they’ll be in them. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen very often, because I see the sisters about once a week for around 3 hours max. But the first shoutout request comes from Sister Nielson. She wanted to be in my email for, literally no particular reason. Actually, she wanted to be put into the email after she found out that Sister Hartman made it into one of my previous emails. But she’s pretty cool and really funny. The Next is Hermana Salazar, who found out about people getting put into my emails, and asked to be as well. So she is awesome and came straight from Mexico, completely skipping the MTC. We usually end up going shopping with her and her companion Sister Benesch because we have to share a car with them. Then Sister Howcraft wanted to join the bandwagon, and so she’ll be in this email as well. She’s the nice one that doesn’t throw shade with us elders, which is a good break from the others. Then Sister Keller, who goes home in like a week and a half. She asked to be in the email, then said some unkind remarks about my emails, and I threatened to take her off the list. But lucky for her, she redeemed herself for the first and last time. She’s the one that makes the most jabs at the elders, but it’s all some fun jokes in the end. That’s all for the shoutouts, and I’ll catch ya next week.