It’s been rumored in Australia for years, but today I’m coming out with the truth that all my twitter followers have been curious about for years. I really hate Sam Luce. I’ve known Sam for over the past 4 years, and my hate for him has grown exponentially every day since our first meeting. Really, it’s true!
It wasn’t hard, since I hate 100 things about Sam Luce; but I’ve carefully narrowed it down to my top 10 reasons I hate Sam Luce. (Nowhere on this list will you find complaints about the removal of skulls from his website, or his continued insistence that 50 degrees isn’t cold.)
- He likes the Yankees. Seriously? Liking the Yankees is like rooting for bank robbers and high-fiving kid trippers.
- He always answers his phone. Who does this? Every time I call Sam he answers his phone. He’s always available and never puts me off for another time. So annoying.
- He is skinny. I know what you’re thinking, “Aren’t you skinny?” Yes I am, but I still hate Sam Luce for stealing all my skinny jokes.
- He’s worked at the same church for over a decade. Again who does this? Doesn’t he know that he’s supposed to church hop every few years? Did he miss that class in bible school? Somehow he’s stayed committed to one church, one body, one congregation, and the same families for years and years.
- He has never fully appreciated sweet tea or Chik-fil-a. He’s from the north, and thinks the perfect Christian chicken sandwich is overrated. This is so lame, he needs more sweet tea.
- He way too friendly. Have you ever met him at a conference? He’s always smiling and shaking hands and talking to people. So annoying when all you want to do is go get dinner, but Sam is running for mayor by shaking hands and kissing babies.
- He calls me just to talk. This makes him the weirdest of the weird, he just calls to say hello. Why can’t I ever think to do this? Because he’s Mr. perfect, and I’m not. I hate this.
- He displays his hate for fanny packs, but we all know he really collects and stores them in his basement. I’m going to his house next weekend, and I’m going to search and report on my findings. This hypocrisy has to be revealed for the sin he is living in! (Not the sin of fanny packs, the sin of covering up his love for them.)
- He’s always wanting to pray with me. Sometimes I want to just complain and gripe; but Sam is always wanting to pray with me about it. Arghh!
- He doesn’t understand the difference between sharing fajitas and ordering fajitas for two! He thinks that if you share “fajitas for two” that you have to share your fork as well.