I was in my first area in Peru. My companion, who had one or two months left, would not get out of bed before noon. During this time the mission president visited our zone and interviewed each missionary. During my interview he asked me how everything was going with my companion. I told him exatly how it was going and he told me to hang in there because he would be going home soon. He didn't want to send him home early because he wanted him to return home an "honorable" missionary.

me. I always wanted ANSWERS to the tough questions, ALWAYS wanted to have FUN, always wanted to KISS THE PRETTY GIRLS!

My first companion was my worst. She was a slacker, had a really nasty temper and was verbally abusive towards me. She was supposed to be my trainer but never trained me on anything because if she did that, I would realise that we weren't doing squat and report that to the MP. We pretty much spent my first two months just hanging out at the members houses, at a local icecream parlor and at a fabric store where she knew one of the employees, so she could talk and flirt with him for a couple hours or more.

She was also very horny and would brag to me about her handsome non-member boyfriend she left in her hometown and hint that she was very sexually active before the mission- which means that she definitely lied when interviewed for her mission. Sometimes in the morning, she would tell me that she had an erotic dream with an elder in our district and tell me everything in graphic details, even though I made clear that I wasn't interested. She also had the really bad habit of asking people to give her their personal belongings and most of the time she really got some people to do so. She was also very narcissistic, thought she was beautiful and bragged all the time about how she was the prettiest sister in our mission- I'll tell ya, she wasn't all that :P

And she would use fear tactics with me, saying that if I decided to tell the ZLs or the MP about her wrongdoings, they wouldn't believe me because I was just the junior companion. Since I was quite naive, I remained silent.

Later on, I learned through other mishies that my dear first compy had problems because of her behavior and nasty personality throughout her entire mission and that she actually got caught by her companions kissing guys in two different areas. Even so our "inspired" MP not only kept her in the mission but also decided that she would be a good trainer for a greenie. She shouldn't even be there to begin with, but she received a "honorary" release.

After she finished her mission, she actually returned to one of her areas so she could date and marry one of these guys she kissed. They got engaged but once she started being abusive to him, he saw trouble and broke up. Good for him. Last I heard of her, she was divorced with two children and serving as the RS president in her ward in Southern Brazil.

P.S.>>> I forgot to say: she stole a pair of bermuda shorts from me when we finally split.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 06/18/2013 02:58PM by drlectersdaughter.

drlectersdaughter Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------


> Later on, I learned through other mishies that my
> dear first compy had problems because of her
> behavior and nasty personality throughout her
> entire mission and that she actually got caught by
> her companions kissing guys in two different
> areas. Even so our "inspired" MP not only kept her
> in the mission but also decided that she would be
> a good trainer for a greenie. She shouldn't even
> be there to begin with, but she received a
> "honorary" release.
>


I want to be perfectly clear about this.

There are certain behaviors that go beyond, WAY beyond, simple
irritating inconsiderate petty personal behaviors, and demonstrate intentional aggression against subjects. These behaviors tread into the territories of being abusive, psychotic, counter productive, and even criminal.

Demonstrations of these behaviors include;

The rules are stringently applied to others, to an intentionally abusive extent as the perp is in charge, but *SOMEHOW* the rules don't apply to the perp at all.

The perp is free to express any far flung resentful/ self indulgent sentiment that they may have, while others are not entitled to say much of anything, and when they do speak, whatever it is, it ends up being used by the psycho perp as some kind of indictment against the subject.

When abusing companions is not pathologically gratifying enough for the perp, the station of missionary is used to heap abuse on ward members and investigators. This is a very curious situation, because the prime directive is supposed to be to garner investigators to turn them into converts, and in turn NOT INTENTIONALLY to drive people away.

The situation escalates to incidents where the physical well being of a missionary or member might be compromised.
This includes things like;

goading missionaries into doing foolish things like riding bicycles in adverse conditions where traffic conditions pose a potentially lethal threat. other conditions such as bad Weather/ sleep deprivation can compound this threat.

The health of subjects is neglected. This includes prolonged ignoring/ denying of treatment of serious illnesses / poisonous insect bites etc. this includes belittling the subject for having health issues as a way to postpone treatment.
(remember, if your health is ruined, it is not going to really effect brother bednar or the rest of the big 15 at all )

engaging in behavior that directly threatens the well being of the subject. like leaving broken glass on the floor in the middle of the night for the subject to step on in the morning, threatening the subject with knives, pans of boiling water, etc.

putting foreign material/substances in the subject's food.

When a missionary engages in these types of behavior patterns then they need to be sent home, but most of the time they are not. Any effective conventional organization would rid itself of such problematic actors in its own best interest, but that is not the way that the LDS cult operates.

In fact often times it is the subject that ends op being in trouble or viewed as defective / deficient instead of the psycho perps. Mission pres'es often completely neglect their administrative responsibilities in these instances by keeping the psycho perp missionaries in the field instead of purging the mission of them. THis is exactly what the Miss Pres es are told to do by Salt lake city, in order to maintain missions as faith building experience for all involved.

LDS inc feels entitled to jam people into these pressure cookers situation to demonstrate Its own pathological levels of control, then when somebody finally gets hurt,
LDS inc's official cookie cutter response is: "we sure are sorry that happened! who could have seen that coming ! it must have happened because the devil is working so hard against our divine cause!"


And why is this so prevalent in MORmONISM ? -Because LDS inc was founded as an instrument of abuse going back to day one with PERVERT CON MAN Joe Smith, and that culture of abuse and exploitation persists in the MORmON cult.

after all, Pres Monson wont be sleeping in some insect/rodent/snake infested dwelling, but he will be around to suggest that going on a mission is good for the members being subjected to the missionary experience, with out any real consideration for what the missionary might be exposed to. In

after all, the harder it is for the MORmON member, the better!


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuN_ZDJKkPo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3A5QGj7ZaM

"I have come to know that no sacrifice is too great for a faithful latter day saint"

Gordon B. Hinckley



Edited 3 time(s). Last edit at 06/19/2013 09:41PM by lucky.

There are some AMAZING stories on these threads
http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,783478,784972#msg-784972
http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,786007,786007#msg-786007
http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,786898,786898#msg-786898

To bad those threads have been closed. I could just go on and on and on :P

Then do go "on and on", I love Missionary stories like this and can never get enough. I never went but the stories crack me up so share yours please....

Get typing!!

I had a comp from rural Idaho. He was a good ol' country boy. our apartment was in the town square where the HS kids cruised on Friday nights - It was like and primitive instinctual call....He would always say lets go get in a fight...I would say something like "we uh, Elder I will call the pres. and if he says that would be cool I am all in...we were once giving the first discussion to a highly educated professional. My comp get to the part of the story you all know and says..."Jesus tol' him ya aint spose to join none of 'em"...I about died...I remember telling him "you're country boy thing is endearing and all but when you quote the Lord Jesus Christ".....man I would have hated to be MY companion.

I do have to admit, I think that is the best version I have heard yet...Sounds like he might not have been so bad..LOL!

What is it with the Idaho spuds? (Sorry for the sweeping generalization)
One of my spud companions had to go on his mission because he made a deal with God. Went diving in Hawaii by himself after he had only just recently certified in Idaho. His first dive the current took him away from the beach. He ran out of air trying to get back. Surfaced, swam to the cliffs, gets beat up trying to climb out. Dumps his rented tank and belt, repeatedly tries to climb up. About to drown, prays a deal with the Lard to save him and he would go on a mission. Next very next wave is larger and god throws him a little higher on the rocks and he sticks. Hours later is rescued. It pissed him off when I told him waves come in sets and each set usually has a large one. He could have just waited, didn’t really need to make the deal.

Same guy I laughed at over his idea that our solar system, and others, were just a large bubble and that all space between was water. Discussions about why that was not likely angered him. But nothing could shake his faith in a Hydro-heaven or his intention to some day , as a god, make his own water world with no land.

He was an OK guy in most other ways, but he had several fixations.

Ya' just can't make this stuff up.

My second companion out in the field had sold his body for sex with men to support his coke habit. This was in the Philippines. He wasn't gay, he just needed the money. Anyway, he cleaned up and became baptized and out in the field he tells me he had a child who was being raised by his ex-girlfriend. I knew that he should leave the field but when I brought it up to the MP (like the good narc that I was) i was told to forget about it.

Later on in the field he started drinking Robitussin AC and passing out at night. fine by me because I couldn't stand him by this point. He was so arrogant and he argued with me a lot. That was six months of hell.

Here ya go:

#1 was the crazy bitch I described above. Besides all that, I also had a very remarkable experience while in that area.
We had a house that was big and more furnished than the average houses in our mission. But the house was also very old and rotten, and we had a problem with cockroaches and rats, and also pretty much everyday we would find at least one tarantula in the house. Those things freaked me out but I rationalized that at least they were useful to eat the rats and cockroaches and didn't think much about that.

One afternoon, while doing our daily little drop of real proselitism, some sort of a mini tornado hit that town. Thank goodness, we were indoors while the craziness happened, but once we got out, there was a lot of trees torn down, electricity was gone and a lot of mud and trash all over the place. By the time we got back home at 8:30 (dear compy would NEVER get home at 9:30), the electricity was back, and when we opened the door...
.
.
.
I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP!!!>>>> There were about 30 or more hairy tarantulas all over the house. On the walls, on the floor, on the furniture, just everywhere our eyes could see. It was like a horror movie. All we could do was to run outside screaming at the top our lungs. Our landlord who also happened to be our next door neighbor and occasional handyman, came out to see what was going on. He thought we were being attacked or something. When he saw what it was, he just exclaimed:"Puta que pariu!", which is like the brazilian way of saying "holy s**t!". He then brought in three other guys and they proceeded to kill the tarantulas one by one. Once they were done and the entire house was cleared, they swiped all the dead tarantulas to the sidewalk and set them on fire with alcool. That night, we slept with the lights on because we were still afraid of them and bright light supposedly scares tarantulas away.

The problem was, we had a huge colony of tarantulas on our roof (that's why we would have one or another in the house sometimes), and when the strong wind hit, it messed up the tiles and their nest and they took refugee inside the house.

I'm sorry that I don't have any pictures of that mayhem to show you guys. That night, I was too much in shock to do anything. My companion, who was way more cold blooded than me, took a few pictures. But when a couple days later I asked her if I could borrow her negative and make myself some copies, bitch just rolled her eyes, pursed her lips and said:"No!" What a jerk!

The only good thing I experienced in my first area was the fact that I finished the missionary qualification within only 28 days, when most of the mishies took about 3 months to do it. So yay me! But my dear compy still tried to steal my thunder, bragging during the district meeting that it was her merit too, since she, as my senior, had put me into doing that fast. Yeah right! ;)

===========

Comp. #2: My real trainer. A very sweet and fun gal from Sandy, UT. We worked very hard had lots of fun together, and after the hell I went through with my first companion, I really needed that. One of my favorites. We only stayed together for one month.

Comp. #3: Since I had already finished my qualification and several older sisters hadn't, the MP promoted me to senior. I had only 3 months in. My new companion was 28 year old brazilian gal and had 4 more months in than me. I thought it was going to be another nightmare for we all know the huge "bonfire of vanities" every mission is. Thankfully, I was wrong. She was really neat and fun to hang out with. She had problems with her testimony though, and would say that she thought the temple ceremony was "bizarre". She loved to stare at me and take pictures of me, and at first I felt a little annoyed because I thought she was hitting on me. LOL. But she wasn't! She really just liked me and one time she told me that she would love to have me as her younger sister. She was also very obsessed about cleanliness, and would mop our floor and the clean the bathroom every night before bed, even though we were only allowed to do that on p-days. I didn't mind because that seemed to bring a huge stress relief for her. One of my best companions together with #2. I heard that she left the church shortly after returning home. I'd love see her again and share our post-mission and leaving the cult experiences.

Comp. #4: Another older mishie who hadn't finished her qualification. She brazilian, had 7 months in and would criticize my way of working and teaching, like hinting that she knew more than me because she was there for a longer time. We stayed together for only 5 days(thank God!), because I left on an emergency transfer.

Comp.#5: I got transferred to replace an american sister who had someone in the ward in love with her. At the time I joked that if the MP wanted me to replace her in a situation like that was because he thought I was ugly. LOL. And of course I'll never know that reason why he picked me.
Well, my new companion was awesome. A very dedicated gal from Southern Brazil. She had one more month in the mission than me but didn't feel offended for being my junior. I actually let her lead most of the time and she told me many times how much she appreciated that. We were companions for only one month and got to spend our first Christmas in the mission together. Our area was a rich neighborhood located outside the city where the mission headquarters were located, but it also included some poor neighborhoods nearby. While there, I found out that several rich families from this ward attended the church meetings somewhere else, so they wouldn't have to hang out with the poor in the same ward. Shame on them one million times.

Comp. #6: An american rich spoiled rotten bitch from SLC. She told me one time that her father is a former professional tennis player who was then the head coach for the UofU tennis team. Very stupid and self-centered. She hated the mission, hated the country, hated the brazilian people, hated the food, the language, didn't know what she was doing there, had no wish to be there, but instead of sending her back home, the MP forced her to stay there just to be a pain in the ass of everybody. She would brag all the time about the money she had and I hadn't, about how beautiful her home and mine wasn't, how special she was for being white and american and I wasn't and so go on. One time, she told me she hated talking to the poor brazilian people we taught, specially those with bad teeth, and how disgusted she felt for having to enter their simple houses and sitting on their old and stained sofas to teach the discussions. All that I did was to give her an out of pity smile and sometimes shuckle. She did all she could to poison our companionship and make the work collapse, as she very frequently didn't want to leave the house and I had to call the DL for a talk with her. She deserved to be bitchslapped. I was about to put her on a bus, take her to the airport and send her back home. Later on, I found out that she made up several lies about me and the time we spent together. Basically, saying that I was a bad missionary and a bad person and accusing me of doing the things she actually did. Besides having a flawed character, I think this woman is probably mentally ill.

Comp. #7: My MTC companion, who was still struggling to learn the discussions and finish her qualification on her 12th month. She was very humble and easy going and we had lots of baptisms together. But our age difference (she was 35, I was 22) didn't allow us to be really close or have things in common. I liked her a lot though. We're Facebook friends.

Comp. #8: A sweet and insecure southern brazilian gal. We got along very well, but she was very shy and didn't have much self confidence, mainly because she had a family history of abuse. Her name was Sister Luz, which in Portuguese means "light", and sometimes, just to cheer her up, I would sing to her the hymn "Lead Kindly Light", which in portuguese is called "Brilha Meiga Luz" and could be translated as "Shine On, Sweet Light".

Comp. #9: A 30 year old, black and overweight brazilian compy. She was on her 15th month and hadn't finished her qualification yet. She was also semi-illiterate and didn't know how to answer even the simplest questions from the gators. I pretty much had to do all the work by myself. She also had a really bad attitude. One day, on our second week together, it was her turn to clean the house and mop the floor. Since it was rain season, our house had some mud on the floor because the mission never provided us with a doormat for us to wipe our feet. She asked me what she should use to mop, and I told her to use some old t-shirt that were into a plastic bag in our living room. Instead, she went to a different part of the house, found a bag where I put my dirty clothes in and used one of t-shirts to mop the floor. That particular shirt was a present from a guy in my hometown who liked me, he wrote a poem for me, had it printed on a t-shirt and gave the shirt to me. The feelings weren't mutual, but he was a good friend and I thought it was very sweet of him. So, not cool. Not cool at all. It was my favorite shirt and I wasn't amused. When I told her that was my shirt, she just answered with a dry "I don't care!". Needless to say, we never had a great companionship and we both never cared about doing anything to make it better.

Comp, # 10: My first and only greenie and my last companion. Another girl from southern Brazil. I spent the last 5 months of my mission with her, in a very hot and humid small town, where was very common to see BoMs in trash cans in the streets. It was in this area where I passed out in the street, after an entire day without food. The reason was because we had a really big area with neighborhoods not very well spread. We were teaching a few people on the very extreme of the area, and we had to take the bus to get there, and since we were using the bus more frequently now, the money evaporated. On the last week of the month, just two days before we would receive our allowances, we got to make a choice between paying the bus to go teach the gators or eating. Like good mishies, we decided that the gators were more important and that we could just go visit a member and get some food from them. Stupid and irresponsible decision. We didn't get one meal from a member that day, and we had no food in our fridge when we returned home at night. Then the next day in the morning we went out with no food in our bodies again. It was hot, around 100 degrees and I simply lost consciousness. Next thing I saw, I was inside a grocery store, on a chair under a ceiling fan, I felt a hand softly smacking my cheeks and I opened my eyes and saw a young man around 19-20 looking at me. My companion was by my side looking very scared. Apparently, I passed out right in front that store, and this young man who worked there saw me crashing and went to help us. He told me that I needed to go to a hospital and said he was on his lunch break, and since the hospital was on the way to his house, he could give us a ride. I was feeling so weak and disoriented that I just didn't think of the mission rule about never getting into the car of a stranger. I just agreed and he helped me to walk to his car and took us to the local ER. After getting there, I had some liquid injected in my veins and the doctor who examined me said that I was dehydrated and malnourished (YOU DON"T SAY???lol). After a couple hours, when they made sure my blood pressure wasn't so low anymore, they released me. When we got outside, the same young man was waiting for us and after asking if I was feeling better he said he could give us a ride home if we needed. Again, we accepted, and on the way to our house, I asked him with a grogue voice:"You're being so kind to us. Are you an angel or a real person?". He smiled at me and said that he had been taught by his parents to do good things for people, and that he always looked for opportunities to help others. When I asked him if he had a religion, he said he was an active presbiterian.
After he dropped us off, we went to a paid phone nearby our house to call our ZL to let him know that we were having problems, and also called the member we were supposed to have lunch with that day but missed because I was at the hospital. When I explained to her what happened and politely asked her to forgive us for not showing up, she just said that no, she wasn't going for to forgive us for making her wait and cook food that was going to be wasted, and just hang up on me. She was the district's RS president.

---
This post got bigger than I intended, I hope nobody gets bored ;)



Edited 7 time(s). Last edit at 06/19/2013 09:58AM by drlectersdaughter.

Not at all boring,thanks for posting, I can read this stuff for hours.

I think I might have had some roundabout contact with your comp #6 in Utah, many years ago. Did she go on her mission in the 1995-96 time frame? Or maybe she had a sister who did?

Also, that tarantula thing will give me nightmares tonight. You're braver than I am--I would have set the house on fire and then gone back to the States.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/19/2013 08:00PM by stbleaving.

Compy# 6 served from mid 1996 to the end of 1997. She did have an older sister, but she was married with kids at that time and never served a mission. I'll tell you her initials: C.A.R.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/19/2013 08:32PM by drlectersdaughter.

She dated my boyfriend (yes, while I was dating him) right before her mission. I think she was dating another guy at the same time, too. It doesn't surprise me that she was a bitch on her mission. Sorry you had to put up with her. Hadn't thought about her (or the scummy boyfriend) in quite awhile.

Wow, what a small world! :)
I remember she saying that she left two guys waiting for her back home. I can totally imagine her being sneaky (should I say unscrupulous?) like that.

I too love stories like this. Keep 'em coming!

One missionary in my MTC district told us he believed there was a back door into the CK and he was going to find it.

I was 'fortunate" to have a grandson of a member of the Q of 12 on one of his few stops before his permanent assignment to the mission office. This was before I issued my ultimatum to my mission pres, which was, "Put me to work physically helping the people of the area or send me home." Because he had been a missionary companion of my dad's, he gave me and whatever companion I had at the time manual labor, most of which involved putting adequate roofs on the shacks of residents so that when the torrential rains came down, the families somewhat stayed dry.

It's a good thing the idiot was my companion before I switched to manual labor, because he couldn't have put a nail in a wall if Jesus Christ ANDjoseph the carpenter were standing beside him giving him directions, and with the Holy Ghost perched on his shoulder for added inspiration.

The guy was the biggest whiner I've ever heard in my life, and I have so many nieces and nephews that I've lost count (over 40), so I've heard more than my share of whining. At one point he developed an ingrown toenail, and we were confined to the apartment/hut for weeks.(I'm not downplaying the pain of an ingrown toenail; it's just that this guy made so much more of it that any patient I've ever treated. I've treated an agricultural worker with a pretty ever case who was back in the field the next day.) We were eventually transported to a major city almost a thousand miles away so that the special mishie's toenail could be treated properly in a pristine setting. Had it been any other missionary, he or she would have gone fifty miles to the nearest clinic if that. The mission pres's wife was an LVN, and she handled far more medical situations than she was qualified to treat.

The guy had special permission to call Mommy and Daddy anytime he wanted, and they called our apartment almost nightly as well -- usually not accounting for the difference in time zones. The mission president always wondered why I was so sleepy.

The second most annoying thing about my "special" companion, other than his whining, was his dietary habits, which would have been fine had they not been foisted upon me. I wanted us to each purchase our own groceries and split the grocery allowance in half, but he would have none of it, and he "out-ranked" me because of his connections despite his junior companion status. (Because of complications in our mission, I was a senior companion very early even though I wasn't an especially favored missionary). He only wanted to eat a very few things, and most of our allowance went for non-caffeinated sodas and the closest thing to American junk food he could find, i.e. the local equivalent to Hostess, Little Debbie's etc, which didn't actually exist, but he found some sort of sugary junk that would suffice. Maybe other guys would have liked that, but I was raised on the basic four food groups and solid, decently prepared meals. My mom even taught me the basics of cooking before sending me off on my mission.

The very worst thing about the anointed missionary, though, though, was that he was the most prolific masturbator on the planet, yet he didn't have the decency to retire to the privacy of the bathroom to do it. Then he would apparently complain to the AP without coming right out with the gist of his complaints that I spent a dispoportionate mount of time in the shower and in the bathroom. When the AP interviewed me, he'd mention what the idiot whined about and then laugh. I told him there were things I could share that, were his grandfather the Apostle to know, would probably turn his ears purple, but that I wasn't going to go there. The AP and I would just have a good laugh and leave it alone.

He started and ended about five months after I did, so I don't know if he ever made it to APor any real leadership position, or if he was still answering phones in the mission office. God, the guy was a prick. If I saw him today, I'd probably punch him in the face and take whatever consequences the law dished out except that my wife stands to inherit a substantial chunk of cash eventually, and I'd hate to see him get his hands on any of that. For that matter, I won't always be a starving resident. I don't want to pay out any hard-earned salary to him. (I should hire my nephew to punch him.)I'd prefer that he remain a starving seminary teacher. I'm sure he'll eventually be moved up to the Institute level just because of who he is, but he'll still be far from rich unless he inherits something.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/19/2013 04:38AM by scmd.

Elder Gelwix or Gilwix from California I think. Early 70's in Central States/Kansas Missouri mission. What a complete and total waste of skin. Dumber than a sack of hammer heads, thought he was God's gift to the world.

Was an austrian. We were stationed in a tiny little village called Leer, near the dutch border. We didn't do very much tracting, because the village was so small, most people had already heard of us. We spent most of our time visiting active members and just talking, or hanging out in the apartment watching soccer. On P-days, we would go outside of our area without permission and do fun things. One time I will always remember is taking a train to the coast, and buying fresh shrimp directly off the boat. I was a jr companion at the time and probably a pain in the ass for him, because sometimes I would ask him why we didn't do more missionary work. I never did tell on him, although I'm quite certain the mission president was already aware of his motivational issues before I got there. That's why he was in a village, and not in a city.

I was actually kind of happy to be taking a break, because I had just previously spent 2 months with the hardest working elder in our mission. He was a DL, kept all the mission rules to a T. If we got back to our apartment building early, say at 9:15, he would knock on doors in our own building until 9:30 at night, so we wouldn't in our apartment too early and be in violation of the mission rules. I had to spend my one and only Christmas in germany with the guy. He kept trying to make appointments on Christmas day. When he gave discussions, he wouldn't answer people's questions. He would just continue with the memorized discussion lines. And this guy was also an Austrian, so his native language was German! After I left, i heard he had a nervous breakdown.
Going from an overboard hard working elder to a lazy elder taught me an important lesson that stuck with me for the rest of my mission: Its OK to be somewhere in the middle as far as ahderance to that stupid white handbook was concerned.

Mine was this overzealous, ugly, bug-eyed, geeky dickhe4d. He had two clocks so he wouldn't oversleep in case he missed the first one. Both would tic-toc out of sync all night. I was tired and wanted to sleep in for a few one morning (probably the dick-clocks kept me up) and he threatened to call the MP. He never baptized a soul as he was so impersonal. No one would feel his spirit as he was the most spiritless, vapid, boring, assh0le I've ever encountered. I was transferred there by the Mission President (Wayne Jackass Owens) as punishment for playing guitar at a church function. I was asked to play by the zone leaders when I was only two months out and had no knowledge of the "no guitars" rule imposed mission wide. Nevermind Ownens allowed his pet missionary to play trumpet in the chapel for some dumba55 mission conference. BTW the guitar playing I did was great, and probably the best thing that branch has ever heard. Anyway, I still continued to play. F Owens. One investigator I used to play for became the bishop and then the Stake President. He gave me his guitar which I kept throughout my mission. I willed it to another cool missionary before I left. It was a Gibson.
Man, you guys brought up some nasty memories.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/19/2013 07:51PM by drilldoc.

"I was transferred there by the Mission President (Wayne Jackass Owens) as punishment for playing guitar at a church function. I was asked to play by the zone leaders when I was only two months out and had no knowledge of the "no guitars" rule imposed mission wide. Nevermind Ownens allowed his pet missionary to play trumpet in the chapel for some dumba55 mission conference"

Funny how it works that way !

I only had 1 decent companion. The rest were all terrible. I don't feel like making a wall of text right now though. I will return and report