A few of the reasons why I'm going to hell.

Let me preface this with the statement that yes, I do believe in Hell.  I'm not entirely clear on the concept  though, because the idea is that you go to Hell if you're a really bad person.  Since Satan is already bad, it seems to follow that he would want the bad people there, so why would he torture the people he actually wants to have around? It seems kind of like peeing in your friends' beer.  I guess the bad people are down with it because maybe they play nasty tricks on each other and, one presumes, Satan.  I mean, once at Homecoming my friends put salt in my beer while I was peeing, and I drank it anyway because that's what friends do and also it would have taken forever to get another pitcher right in the middle of Homecoming.

So, yes, I believe in Hell.  I'm never sure about those people who are all smarmy and oh-so-enlightened who say (usually after I say "You are evil and you are going to burn in Hell") "Well, I don't believe in Hell so I can't go there."  Let me tell you, smartass, I never believed in Newark either because it just didn't seem like a very good idea, but I finally ended up having to actually be in Newark. No matter how much you hate the idea of a place doesn't mean that it doesn't exist and that it doesn't suck.  I wonder if one also gets indecent propositions in the main train station in Hell.

I am probably going to Hell because I do have a filter, but I don't always remember to turn it on and without it I can be pretty nasty, though usually in response to something I find nasty in the first place--or just really stupid.  In recent memory:

Student J: "Yo. You look like a fuckin cholo."
Me: (one inch from student's face) "How do you know I'm not? And if I am, do you really want to piss me off?"

Student V: (busting the I'm-a-sexy-ghetto-ho eye-roll and tude) "I don't need no library card cuz I doan read."
Me: "Oh, OK. You made the active decision to be stupid and uninformed. I totally see your point.  Have fun on the pole!"

Whiny, very loud lady berating a stockboy at the store for not having something:  "I'm going to call the manager!"
Me, almost sotto voce: "I'm going to call the SS."

Pseudo-intellectual chick at bar: "Writing a blog is so narcissistic."
Me: "So narcissistic...what? Use the language correctly.  Besides, if I lived your life, I'd want to read about mine."

Damnit, I've got to stop sitting in handcars by mistake.  Oh, shit, wait...