Jesus was a streaker...he had super hairy balls.

Well ladies and gentlemen, I'm here. And this is what is happening.
I'm sitting on my couch, watching Sex In the City, drinking the last of my whiskey, smoking a cig, and screening my calls like its my job. Screening because the woman who lives above me has become strangely obsessed with me. And obsessed with telling me about Jesus and blessing me with God's love. I listen to her scream at her husband every Jesus lovin night, and then she comes down in the morning to tell me how great she feels, how's she high on God's love, and how Jesus is telling her to do things. She has also gave my numebr to her friends, so they can call here if she's not in her apartment. Um Helloo????
This leads me to question, what's the difference between God and the voices in your head that seem to be left over form a few to many acid trips? God=Drugs.
May I add, that this is the same woman who a week before told me of her secret childhood, and pretty much blew my mind away with truth, truth could paralyze a young child. She immediatly followed that conversation with words that made me feel like a failure because I lived alone and I was single. I truley believe that most people would rather be in an unhealthy relationship than no relationship at all. This woman screams at her drunk husband everynight but there was a sweaty fear in her voice when she warmly refered to my "lonely, scarey life".
In real real real reality I am not lonely nor am I scared. She is, however, insane. Listen to the heavy breathing she leaves on my answering machine if you don't believe me. People love me. This is a fact I have come to accept, but its a curse sometimes. One weird, old, tatooed. jesus loving, repeat calling, scarey curse.
So thats my story.
Somebody call me thats not her. Please.