Subtitled: The Post My Husband Doesn't Want Me to Write.
But really. Surreal stuff like this does not happen to me very often, so I have to capitalize on it when it does. On Saturday, I received a very strange phone call from my dad. Seems he had a favor to ask of me.
Little backstory here to explain this request. My dad is a minister. He's at a location in which he has more than one church. One of his churches is not pleased with him. I won't say any more to avoid giving identifying details. Suffice it say, he's in a delicate situation with one of his churches. The other churches support him completely.
So. The favor my dad needed to ask of me. He, ah, wants me to store some stuff for him during the summer. See, it's some video tapes and dvd's and he doesn't want to put them in storage because the heat would ruin them. But he really needs to get them out of his house right now because of the church situation. Yep, you guessed it, my dad wants me to store his p0rn collection. Yes, me - mother of two small children.
But wait - it gets better. See, there's 10 boxes of movies.
My father wants me to store his 10 box p0rn collection. Hold me.
I mean, really, WHO has 10 boxes of p0rn? Oh, wait, that would be my dad.
Before you ask, yes, I will count the tapes. Yes, I will take pictures. Yes, I will post them. Rock is having a field day with this. He says he's going to take pictures and show them to his friends and when they ask what it is, he's going to say, "My preacher father-in-law's p0rn collection".
All weekend, we've been playing the, "if they're small boxes and only hold 10 tapes, that's still 100 tapes." "if they're big boxes and hold 20 tapes, that's 200 tapes!" O!M!G!
Rock says he didn't know anyone in the military who had that much p0rn and that my dad would be the p0rn god. That makes me the daughter of the p0rn god. Hold me.