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I arrived at Sunset Presbyterian on Sunday thinking about my siblings. It was not only my brother Dan’s 38th birthday (dayem we’re getting old!) (Happy Birthday, Dan!) but we’d picked the church specifically because my sister was slated to perform there in the Rose City Flute Choir and I was very much looking forward to…

It’s not going to come as a shock to anyone that the likelihood of me ever ending up a Catholic is slim (See also: never). I have no intention of becoming a Scientologist, either, but wild horses couldn’t keep me from attending a Dianetics lecture over the course of this project. Some Sundays, I see…

We dragged our sorry, atheist, hungover asses out of bed this morning to attend Sunset Presbyterian Church — the ridiculously early 9 a.m. service made even more ungodly by the onset of Daylight Savings Time. I hope you appreciate the sacrifices we make for you. Sunset Pres’ website says: We hope you’ll find a place…

You may already know how keen I am on the idea of getting up on Sunday morning and going to church just to be told what a lousy, sinning piece of crap I am. So why would I put myself through that in the middle of the week? I did it for you, dear reader.…
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