January 3rd, 2011

Insanad's intro

A lot of you already know me from Postmormon. I'm Dahli-mama there and Insanad on Exmormonforums.com (a small little band of misfits behind the Mormon Curtain)

If you don't know me then you should read the small print on the side of my package that comes from the surgeon General as a warning: Ingesting large amounts of Insanad has been linked to anal leakage, coffee spewing, irritating rash, twisted panties, and occasional bouts of laughter. Take in small doses and never more than twice a day. If over exposure occurs, wash eyes with milk and turn off computer. Not recommended for LDS or pregnant women who have come in contact with LDS or other hallucinagenic substances. Keep Insanad away from children and elderly or infirmed. Do not take Insanad with alcohol or drive large equipment while taking Insanad. Consult a physician if symptoms last longer than four hours. This prescription can be refilled as many times as you wish. Sharing this prescription is highly overrated.

For the rest of you feel free to read about me on my lengthy self aggrandizing narcissistic blog called findingthepony (a reference to finding the happiness in a pile of ripe shit) or you may look at my mediocre unmarketable art on my art blog insanadsprojects . In the event that I offend you or say something way out of line, and just a matter of time before I do, please feel free to PM me and ask for an apology or explanation. In 99% of my posts I don't mean offense to anyone in particular unless you're a General Authority or church leader. Then I mean it directly at you. In fact, if I find a General Authority posting here I'm letting loose with all my guns, even my biggest swear words which are longer than four letters.

Post to this community (Duh?)

Ok, so I've been writing some pretty good stuff but it kept getting dumped into my own journal, so like often happens, I was talking to myself. I was beginning to think you all were ignoring me and my panties were twisting real tight. Then I saw the "Post to this community" thingy at the top. Told you I'm a tard.

Inspiration, Mormon Style- by Insana-D

I posted this to my journal before I figured out how to post here. So here it is again but this time ready for everyone to view and discuss. Please share your own experiences with "Mormon Inspiration". I'd like to know about your callings, the so called confirmation regarding who you married, etc.. In my limited experience inspiration is fairly arbitrary and has been behind some really foolish life choices or daliances. My ex claimed divine inspiration when he decided to join Amway. God is a flucking joker if he insipres someone to join an MLM or shave their moustache so they can be eligible for male leadership in the church.

Here's Inspiration, Mormon Style

The Mormon God clearly has a wicked sense of humor because he's been behind some of the most odd pairings and mismatched marriages.

Say some young buck comes home from his mission all hot and horny and ready to do his duty and start propagating. He sees a hotty in his BYU institute class and sure enough, she bats an eye his way. He goes to the temple and while meditating needily in the Celestial room he gets the inspiration that She is to be his celestial companion. Wooo Wheeee!

That would be fabulous, except that God forgot to tell her the same message and like some Shakespearean comedy the silly minions of love fairies are playing some nasty tricks. She is secretly, madly, head over heels in love with her Professor, who happens to be married already to his second cousin and together they have nine kids and live in a split level in the flat ugly part of Linden.

The Professor is secretly in love with one of the young beautiful and nice dressing return missionaries, and I'm not talking a sister, but according to God's Plan, it's a forbidden love. Besides he's already married to his second cousin and together they have nine kids and live in a split level in the flat ugly part of Linden.

The first hot horny returned missionary is chasing the young virgin in his institute class, she's chasing her Art History professor, and he's wishing he could chase the boy in the Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirt that paints the most fabulous hibiscus pictures. Instead, every night he bows his head, shuffles home in his Pinto to his second cousin wife with the nine kids who live in a split level in the flat ugly part of Linden.

The guy in the t-shirt is in love with the horny missionary whose in love with the virgin whose in love with the Art History teacher whose in love with the guy in the t-shirt, and around it goes. The second cousin wife with the nine kids is in love with scrap booking since she's long given up any hope of getting her husband interested in anything more exciting than procreative sex, which they already did nine times and she's about worn out, so she buys fancy scissors and glues stuff, all day, every day.

Now if God really wanted to give some divine inspiration, he'd have told the art history teacher to avoid the shock therapy that BYU instigated in the 1970's and 80's and just follow his heart rather than acquiesce to marrying his frumpy but sweet second cousin.

He'd convince the return missionary that with a little creative effort he could release the demons of horny neediness and not be in such a big dang hurry to get married to the first thing he set eyes on.

He'd inspire the lovely young virgin to exercise her options a bit and play the field till she was totally ready to settle down and find the perfect man who could devote his whole life to her and their dreams, instead of lusting after the married teacher who has nine kids and lives in a split level in the flat ugly part of Linden and drives a Pinto because BYU wages are just so paltry and nine kids are a lot to provide for, especially when your second cousin wife is spending every last dime on crappy scrap booking stuff.

He'd send some sort of message to the beautiful stud that paints hibiscus to pursue his art dreams in a more progressive town like Sedona, where he could wear pink shirts without having to conceal his fruitiness and eccentricities.

Nope, that God, he's a joker. He lets the return missionary think he got a revelation, the virgin believes that if she is just a little more attentive she'll sway the Art History teacher from his wife and nine kids, and the Art Teacher just weeps in his closet for the loss of all that he ever really was inside. The second cousin keeps cutting out little thingy’s and gluing because she's blissfully happy making nine layer photo frame pages while her kids stew in their diapers and beg for some real attention.

I don't know where I was going with this. Hopefully not to the flat ugly part of Linden to a split level while riding in a Pinto. Hey, maybe I'll head to Sedona and see if I can make a deal with that hot artist who paints hibiscus.