BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND TWITTER BACKGROUNDS

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

God V. Santa Clause



So, in my mind I have been thinking (Imagine that...) and I am noticing some odd parallels between Santa Clause, and "God" and so...I will now stage a mental battle between the two in a mildly passive, comparative, altercation.

Santa Clause:
  • White beard
  • If you are good all year long, you receive rewards!!
  • There is no proof of his existence, and you only receive the rewards if you "believe!!"
  • Feeling like there is someone who cares about you, and who will be proud of you if you do good is a characteristic of the man in red and white.
  • Can preform miracles
  • Has a host of underlings who sing
  • Is in a general Up..ish direction (North pole)
  • Sees you when you are sleeping, and logically awake as well (All knowing...maybe)
  • Old
  • Has been portrayed in many different ways
  • Appears in many different cultures with different names and traditions
  • Finding out he doesn't exist is a bit of a bitch...
(INTERJECTION)

The story of how I found out there was no Santa at age 6:
For Christmas I received EXACTLY what I wanted, that being a pogo stick! I was thrilled when I saw it, and vowed to "KEEP IT FOREVEEEERRRRRR." It was from the mysterious and undeniably delicious man on the left and to the top :D. "Santa...I will love you forever!!

Seven months we had a garage sale, that pogo stick, the one that I had DEARLY loved was up to the highest bidder!! I being almost seven, having grown tired of my childish love of bouncing up and down decided it was time to let go. I however, not having a clear grasp of depreciation asked my dear sweet mother how much I should sell it for. In the words of Weird Al, "My dear, sweat mother than looked at me like a cow looks at an oncoming train and said...": "Well I bought it for 30$ so I think you should sell it for 10$." Ohhhh snap...there went my world...( I never forget gifts, and than I cried...allot. Thankfully my mother felt sufficiently awful about it and kept muttering "shit, SHIT...shit" under her breath she didn't think I could hear it...think again dream killer...

(INTERJECTION OVER)

God:
  • White beard
  • If you are good all life long you will be rewarded!!
  • Despite what people would like to say, there is no proof of his existence, and in order to receive the "rewards" you must "BELIEVE!!"
  • Feeling like there is someone who cares about you, and who will be proud of you if you do good is a characteristic of the man in white and...white.
  • Can preform miracles
  • Has a host of underlings who sing
  • Is in a very Up..ish direction.
  • Very, very Old
  • Is all knowing
  • Has been portrayed in many different ways like Allah, and Italian food (:D)
  • Appears in many different cultures with different names and traditions
  • Finding out he doesn't exist is a the definition of bitch...
(INTERJECTION)
The story of how I found out god doesn't exist:
(Random fact...I do most of my theological thinking in the shower....crazy, right??)
I was 15, I had a razor blade, I was desperate, I was completely lost, I was lonely, I was depressed, and I needed a sigh, I just needed to know that if I chose to remain a good Mormon that it wouldn't be a waste, and that I could be happy. I had decided that if I didn't get an answer I would swap my emotional pain for physical. I prayed harder than I ever had, I laid myself bare, and I felt....nothing, not a warm feeling, not love, only the cold caress of the water that had long gone cold. I didn't want them to show, so I didn't slit my wrists, instead I carved into my thigh, my knee, and my calf. Thin but deep slits that bleed, and bleed. In my utter desolation, as I watched the water turn red, I screamed out to god, or whoever was listening one word. "FINNNEEEEE!" and turned the water off.
Maybe because I wasn't trying to commit suicide, or maybe because I got lucky, I didn't lose a significant amount of blood I staunched the bleeding, ate 4 bananas because I knew the vitamin K would help the blood clot, and used about 20 butterfly stitches, and a dozen bandages. My parents still don't know this story, and I doubt I will ever share it with them. I wore long pants, and pajamas without fail, and they never saw the bandages. My legs are rather hairy, and now the scars aren't even visible (Unless you count the one on my knee, that one really shows for some reason...I told the parents it was a biking accident.) (Please don't feel bad for me, or sad for me. I am not ashamed, embarrassed, or proud of what I did, I just don't really feel anything about it, not even regret. I am also NOT even remotely suicidal, I like guys way too much to give up on finding the right "one.")

(INTERJECTION OVER)

So, who wins?? God has Morgan Freeman's incredibly sexy voice, but Santa is sexy all around (At least in the above picture...and the one below I couldn't resist posting!! The awnser, in my mind: Santa, it hurts less when you stop believing in him, and no one tries to convince you he is still there.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Me

Hi! It's Butterflies and hand grenades again, and this time with a real post.

Frankly, the novelty of the "veil of secrecy" that comes with a my title is wearing thin, and so without further ado...Me:

My name is Robert Douglas Higley, but I go by Bobby :)
The name Butterflies and Hand Grenades came from my Initials, as defined by me.

B-H
(Quite simple, right?)

I am tired of hiding on blogger, because I am no longer hiding in real life, and being closeted online is rather silly when even my neighbors I haven't met know I'm of the clan of men who have lot's of shoes. This because I blast Ke$ha and Gaga every other day. (I then of course proceed to BELT the lyrics as loud as possible while dancing in my room :D )

So, here is a link to my Facebook @ <-
I don't have a Myspace :(
And if you as for my phone # and I ascertain that you are not a fifty year old creep (No offence to the fifty year old creeps who read...I assume there are VAST numbers of them) I will gladly grant you that privilege :P

Ummm background, I was born in Utah...please save the tears for later...I moved to Cali, than back to Utah (Now you can cry) Moved to Florida, fell majorly in love with the Ocean, and than moved to Idaho (Please, sob all you want) where I currently reside :(

I am in High School, as a senior. Though I get my associates degree before I get my HS diploma...warped right??

I LOVE TO COOK!!! I cook Italian, French (!!!!!), Americana...when I am forced to...and am starting to dominate Moroccan!!

I talk...allot...obviously...

And I really like meeting new people, have an awesome day
-Bobby

Who visited lil' ol' me