My friend Matty has just told me some alarming yet hilarious news – he has to meet his girlfriend Amy’s parents for the first time ever – and they are fundamentalist Christians.

Now, let’s start by saying a giant “no disrespect to the Christians out there!” If you have a personal relationship with your main man, Mr. G.O.D., if you like getting’ yo Christ on and kicking it new testament-style with your home-dog J-dog, then go ham mate. Get all up in that, on it and around it.

HOWEVER. With our current national bigotry crisis, where everybody is trying to lean on the “good book” as an excuse for oppressing the love and basic rights of the queer community, then your relationship with your God is only fine UNTIL you use that to justify your refusal to afford other people the tolerance and respect that they so deserve in this country. Usually Christians can be pretty cool about this stuff; I know of many who have voted yes in the postal survey.

Amy’s parents, however, are …….. the other kind.

Matty is tattooed, intelligent and hilarious. He’s EVERYTHING a bigoted Christian parent doesn’t want their daughter to date. Amy herself is a 22 year old who still hasn’t told her parents that she doesn’t believe in God (she stopped around age 14 when she discovered the internet and learned how to think and research things for herself and discovered that almost everything she had been taught was ridiculous). I asked Amy why she doesn’t just tell them, and she replied that they would cry and think that they had failed as parents, and that she would be going to hell, literally. She said that this would mean they would spend the rest of their lives pressuring her back to the church. “Not worth the hassle,” she coolly stated, whilst partaking in a joint – another thing that her parents presumably know nothing about (off to hell with you child).

Matty asked me for some advice on how to pacify the parents. “Short of turning their own game back on them and pretending you are even more devout than they are, I honestly don’t know”, was my sage advice. Matty, that unbelievable crazy kid, took my advice. I’m not even kidding. He went out and bought himself one of those wee pocket bibles with the silky paper. He rote-memorised how to say grace and a couple of his “favourite” bible passages. He covered his tattoos and did his top button right up. He wore a motherfucking pastel coloured jersey over a checkered shirt. I am not making this shit up. Off him and Amy went, into the belly (family home) of the beast (Christians).

They bought every single piece of Matty’s schtick. Hook, line and sinker. Like I said, he’s super intelligent – he was able to fabricate some church story right out of thin air, convincing them that he goes to the local Baptist church down the road. I mean, I’ve seen him piss against it while drunk, but I never knew that he actually registered that there was a church there. Matty and Amy are in total bliss, living in their web of lies, using the pages of Matty’s pocket bible to roll joint filters. I am so proud right now.

Shout outs to Matty <3