This afternoon my phone rings, and it's Monsignor King from Immaculate Conception Church.
Because, you see, about two years ago I got my annulment papers from the jerkoff sent to ICC in prep for the wedding that's coming off in a month at Ponder United Methodist Church. But see, Msgr King was loathe to bless our marriage unless Sam went to RCIA and became Catholic. Which was, for me, one of the final straws on this Catholic camel's back, and which is a large part of why I began exploring other churches.
And two years later, Msgr King calls me. And says, so hey, when are we doing this wedding, and I say, hey, we're doing it in August, wanna come?
And he tells me that because I've joined a *gasp* Protestant church, that I've lost all hope of salvation.
I told him very politely to stick it up his cassock and slammed the phone down in his ear. I'm amazed I didn't cuss a blue streak at the bastard.