Yet Another Instance of Ridiculous Bus Graffiti:

"BRYTNY LOVES CANCER".

I guess if my name were Brytny, I'd want cancer too.

When I was about 5 years old, my mother took me to church.

That was the first attendance I can remember. I was wearing a pretty dress, since my mother tended to dress me quite well until I became an incredibly ugly teenager, and I was proudly wielding my brand new Barbie address book as if it were a purse. (Because it was new and new stuff should be carried around constantly until more new stuff comes along).

In fact, I was so proud of this Barbie thing that I started inching further and further down my seat (my arms raised above my head with the book) in order to show it off to some other little girl behind me. At one point, the Barbie book had replaced my head, while my upper half was essentially flat against the seat of the pew.

I guess my behavior that day was so embarrassing that my mother never brought me to church again. That is, until I was much older and decidedly athiest.

My point is, BARBIE IS THE REASON I AM GOING TO HELL.