I don't know about other churches, but the church that I'm currently attending is FULL of crazies. I'm not even kidding when I say that 50% of the people have something wrong with them (whereas I am perfect).
While usually crazies scare and annoy me, there is one crazy that cracks me up. Her name is Bobbi King. It states on the sacrament meeting program that, "Bobbi King is currently looking for service opportunities. Please call her if you know anyone who is in need."
Bobbi King is the old lady that sits in the Sunday School class and is continually muttering loud enough for everyone to hear. One Sunday in the ladies meeting at the end of church, we were learning about trials. The teacher was relating the story about how she and her husband had waged a three and a half year battle with his cancer, going through several rounds of chemo, etc, only to see him pass away. There were tears running down the teacher's face as she told of this great trial. Bobbi King, sitting on the front row, blurts out (please say with deep, southern, hick accent), "Well that ain't NOTHIN'. One time my boy got done hit on his bike. He had to go to the hospital fur a whole day."
Yes, Bobbi King, you are right. Having your husband die of cancer when he was only 41-years-old is NOTHING compared to that.
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