Dear Jehovah’s Witnesses,
For three days in a row you have had your people show up at my gate, and it is becoming quite exhausting to dodge out of your line of sight in through my windows.
Haven’t you figured it out yet? I am pretending I am not home, that means I really do not want to talk to you.
If I didn’t convert a year and a half ago when you sent the Buddy Holly hipster and rockabilly Zooey Deschanel to my home then *nothing* is going to convert me. I knew it was a mistake to take that Watchtower magazine from him, but I felt a pang of guilt after seeing the look of mouth-gaping horror on rockabilly Deschanel’s face after I told them I am an atheist.
I am trying to be a less shitty person right now, and the lot of you are making it difficult. The duck-and-cover near open curtains as your people stand idle at my gate for 10 minutes waiting for me to answer *several days in a row!* has my inner cunt scratching to come out. It looks like it might be time to order some more atheist nontracts to hand out.