The worst day of my life

Two nights ago, I was enjoying my usual snack of Lays Potato Chips and Budweiser and watching a boxing match on TV. Boxing, for me, is one of the greatest sports around. None of those sissy uniforms and ass grabbing. Just two guys, glistening with sweat, in the best shape of their lives, pounding the living shit out of each other. I boxed myself, some, in high school, but some punk gave me a cheap shot to the knee when the ref wasn't looking, and I haven't walked well since (bobbing and weaving around the ring was out). Sometimes I wish I'd been born a hundred years sooner, so that I could experience the real bare knuckle fights in back bars that I saw on the History Channel.

Anyway, I got a call from my wife. (I can't believe this is going public). She hasn't spoken to me since our divorce, and I assumed she was still upset about the way I acted when she told me she voted for Clinton...because he was pro choice. Can you believe that absurdity? And I guess she didn't like the way I threw her stuff out on the lawn (including her cat, that used that opportunity to run away). I never liked that cat.

But she had some new tone to her voice. She said she'd been doing some soul searching and was in a good place. But she needed a favor. I thought she needed money, but what she needed was far worse. She wanted me to be her date. We used to be amicable. It was a fundraiser for her new job, and she needed a date.

Well, it turned out that it was some kind of conversion thing. It wasn't like a party or anything. It was a church meeting. There were a dozen people sitting around in a circle, and as I was able to figure out, they were trying to use the bible to convert some of these gays to heterosexuality. Which, of course, I was all for. But I was nervous, you know, being around the gays. My first instinct was to jump up and say, "Good god, you brought me here with these people?"

The IDIOT preacher took that as a sign that I was gay. And he started going on about all this nonsense. Before I knew it the whole crowd had me bent over a chair praying to God to make me straight. Even though I was already straight and they were idiots. No matter how much I tried to tell them that it was the men in the pink sweaters and capri pants that needed this treatment, that yes, my son may have been gay but that didn't make me gay at all (liberal media got to him before I could set him straight). They didn't listen. They started hitting me with the bible, saying, "Straighten up before God" "Release your grip on the collective male organ" or something like that.

The worst day of my life. I'll never speak to my ex-wife again. And I'll tell her kids to just give her sweater vests and donations of rain forest trees in the future.