Mary: Whenever I walk Bingo, he really likes that phone pole there.
Angelina. That's right. There he goes. Who's a good boy?... So! Mare! Back to you. Just read your latest blog page. I'm intrigued! It describes a whole new side of you. One that only people in churches can see. But I do not, because I don't even know anyone else who is more inclined to the heart of Christ.
Mary: Bingo is.
Angelina: That's a given; Bingo is a pure soul. But please walk me through the steps of how these encounters happen. First, people meet and underestimate you in a wildly drastic manner. Or, they find your purity threatening. Second, they walk up to you and just say stuff, while you sit there listening patiently.
Mary: It really hurts. I have to tell myself maybe the point is being a good anthropologist?
Angelina: So before you step in to churches, do you first put on a pair of Dumb Eyes?
Mary: Like on Planarian flatworms, when you view them under a microscope in science club? Yes. The eyes are large with rolling googly beads.
Angelina: Then, you just stand there. Looking like a raving idiot?
Mary: Duh. I guess?
Angelina: Thus prompting people to diagnose your problems as lust, and fleshly desires. Do they even know that you handwash your socks in the sink?
Mary: I did go buy that Mexican scrubby washboard. That counts as a labor saving device.
Angelina: No. That still counts as self-flagellation.
Mary: And I do have a fleshly desire for an Excalibur food dehydrator. Then I can make my own apple rings.
Angelina: Well meanwhile, you're getting pasta. I made lots. Here's your Tupperware. You can eat it tomorrow for lunch.
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