The Morons

MoronsMorons

The people with the garage across from me started to park their car outside their garage instead of in it. This only really started at Christmas and obviously makes getting my car in and out of my garage tricky to say the least. Out of 18 flats in the 3 blocks this is the only flat that is rented.

Before I took delivery of my new car I posted a little note through their door, explaining that I use my garage for its intended purpose. This seemed to work for a while but the first working day with the new car and they were parked there again. I wasn’t best pleased. The new car only just fits in the garage with only about 2 inches either side the wing mirrors to spare. So reversing out in a morning I have one eye on each wing mirror and the other on the parked car behind.

What makes matters worse is that they are Mormons. Now, I have absolutely nothing against differing faiths or religions, but what I despise are people who stop you in the street or go door to door to peddle their beliefs. Christians don’t do it, Catholics don’t do it, hell even Satanists don’t do it. Can you imagine a figure in a black hooded cloak ringing your door bell and saying, “Do you accept Satan into your lives so that you too can be damned in hell for all eternity?”. I think not.

The Mormons must have had a squad change recently as the car that was parked there is different to the one that is there now. Walking back home on Saturday, hands in my pockets, listening to my iPod Shuffle, two young men were walking towards me. One of the men held out his hand to be shook. Of course I just ignored him, and it, and carried on. A few steps down the road later and I figured out exactly who they were, where they lived and what car they drove. The car was still parked there this morning so I decided to pay them a visit. A polite note obviously didn’t do the trick so I decided to use 1 or 2, well more like 5 or 6, of this weeks quota of expletives. The very self same expletives that I reserve for my fellow motorists. Yes, it was the very same chap that valiantly tried to shake my hand on Saturday. He came out surveyed the scene and said, “You could drive a bus through there!”. But he couldn’t drive so how would he know that? He said that they use their car a lot and so can’t put it in the garage (that was a lie, as the car hadn’t moved all day). I gave up, did a 5 point manoeuvre to get my car out of my garage, without hitting the garage walls or the car behind, and drove off to work. All the while this idiot was watching. I wish now that I’d slammed my car into reverse and reversed over him.

But all this has made me think more about the Mormons and what a strange little cult they are. The Mormon Boys have been sent here from their HQ in Utah, they obviously aren’t related, but they live in the same flat together. And how spooky it is that no living soul has seen the contents of their garage. Perhaps they are storing poorly printed pamphlets, try saying that without your teeth in? Perhaps it contains the bodies of those Mormons who didn’t fulfil their quota of souls for the month? Perhaps it contains The Lost Ark of the Covenant? That would explain why it has never been found.

Because I quite enjoy sending bizarre e-mails maybe I should have a little fun with Mormon HQ. They actually have a web-site, I mean they’re Mormon not Amish, so they must have an e-mail address. I could pose as a born-again Satanist who is looking to convert, but I would like to ask a few questions first:

  1. Can I still wear my black hooded cloak as I’ve only had it for a few years and would like to get some use out of it?
  2. Do I have to have my 666 birthmark removed or can I just grow my hair over it?
  3. Must I own the entire Osmonds back catalogue or is it okay to just own the early recordings?
  • Posted on Monday, 20 March 2006
  • Tagged with personal