Tag Archives: hypocrisy


(2017 Halloween Edition)

Do you know what I discovered this week about myself?  I hope there is a Hell.  I know I shouldn’t wish anybody goes to Hell if I want to be a good person, but I’ve had it.  Nothing is seemingly being done to stop the horror of the man in the White House by God at this moment (although I’m still holding out for a Pharaoh-like deliverance).  Therefore, it sure would be encouraging if I knew certain elements would not get away with their deplorable actions here on Earth and, thus, fry in the afterlife due to a gigantic bitch-slap from karma. I need to know that justice is coming at some point.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot this week.  If there is a Hell, I would nominate two categories to start with:  hypocrites and spiders.  Especially Huntsman spiders.  They act all cool and nonchalant—all Charlotte Webby and shit—but they don’t talk to you or weave webs that say “nice Negro” like Charlotte did to keep you from getting taken to the slaughter house like Wilbur, the pig.  They actually have the ability to move at the speed of lightning and aggressively jump at you if you encounter them during your travels in Latin America, South America or Australia, and their bite can be vicious.

Spider I weknowmemes dot com

Courtesy of Zipmeme

Hypocrites are like that.  They make you think they represent one thing, say—the Christian Church, compassion, truth, honesty, empathy, morality, and godliness (like the Voters Value Summit on October 13th, who hosted Trump as their main speaker, and welcomed him as a conquering hero), while they sell their souls to a man who is vainglorious, boasts of grabbing women by their genitals, boasts that the best way to treat women is like shit, bullies any and every one, lies through his teeth, and must be the most spiteful, insensitive human being alive.  Yep, Hell sounds like a pretty good landing place for Trump and all the Trump diehards—people who refuse to see the truth about him no matter what he does.  Come to think of it, maybe Hell is too good a place for hypocrites such as these.

As I wrestled with my fantasy about zapping deplorable people and spiders into Hell, I came across a Halloween story that dealt with all three.  It was such a timely story that I had to share it with my readers.  Enjoy!

Scooby Doo Meme Dark and Stormy Night

Meme Courtesy of Scooby Doo and Friends, Hanna Barbera



The older couple should have known that something was afoot. They’d been married for more years than they could remember, and the patterns were always the same a couple days before All Hallows Eve every year: The day would somehow go off the rails—as if pushed off the tracks by ghosts and goblins just to underscore that they were in charge for Halloween.

This couple loved Halloween, but as they progressed in years, both were finding it increasingly hard to come up with Halloween costumes they hadn’t previously featured.  They weren’t amateurs when it came to figuring out unusual costumes.  No sexy nurse or Freddy Krueger costumes for them.  No siree!  At one Halloween party for couples before they were married, the man went as Frédéric Chopin, and the woman dressed as Chopin’s lover, George Sand (the notorious female, cigar smoking, trouser-wearing novelist).  In the midst of that Halloween party of yore, where there were three sets of bacon and eggs, two devils, five witches, four zombies, and six astronauts, they easily took the first place prize.  But after 45 years of knowing each other, they were stumped as to what to wear to the upcoming Halloween party with their friends that weekend.

You’d think that with all their previous Halloween experience they should have seen the signs of demons afoot.

As the couple barreled down the highway in their minivan to do their monthly Costco shopping, they both noticed how stormy the weather was.  It hadn’t even been raining when they left home, and there had been no rain in the forecast, but all of a sudden the sky darkened and it opened up with such fury, it was as if the Devil had called forth all his handymen to have a party at the expense of the sons of men.  (SCARY SIGN #1)

HER:  This is just awful.  Do you think we should turn back?  I can barely see the road.

HIM:  Of course not.  We’re almost there.  Besides, we promised we’d bring fruit platters enough for fifty people and the only place we can get that much fruit without breaking the bank is at Costco. We’re retired, remember.  Income fixed—fixed income.  Anyway you say it, it all means the same:  limited income for extravagance.  Let’s talk about other things so that we don’t think about lashing rains and flooding roads.  Have you come up with a Halloween costume yet?  The theme of this year’s party is:  things that scare the shit out of you.

HER:  Yes, I have.  I’m going as Donald Trump holding the red button that launches our nuclear bombs.

Scariest Costume Trump Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Cartoon used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

HIM:  Good one!  Simple.  Not much needed:  orange wig, white face makeup, one of my suits, and a red button box made out of cardboard.  Within budget.  That costume should be easily understandable to just about everyone except a Trump supporter.  Unfortunately, I haven’t come up with a thing I haven’t done before.  I’m not like you—I’m not afraid of much.  I’ve been chased by the KGB in my youth, shot at in Beirut, survived a bombing of my business by terrorists in the Middle East, and married you.  Do you know what cojones it took to marry you?

HER:  Oh really, old man.  You’re really pissing me off right now.  Not afraid of much, huh?  How about going as a spider, and not just any ol’ spider, but a big, juicy, gargantuan spider—if your bowels can handle it.  It won’t take much:  put a black stocking over your face, sew on two balled up black socks as eyes, put you in your black diving suit, and attach eight elongated blackened tubes made out of thousands of intertwined and connected pipe cleaners to your body, and voila!  There you have it.  Easy, cheap, and scary.  Then we’ll see just how much you’re NOT afraid of anything.  So nani-nani-boo-boo!

As the perturbed old woman watched her man’s face turn ashen and his knuckles grip the steering wheel (as if trying to hang on for dear life), she instantly regretted her spider taunt and realized she might have crossed the line.  In the stony silence that ensued, she remembered a horror story he had experienced from their salad days that she had forgotten in her old age.

Constipated spider solver END

Many years ago, the man had temporarily rented a room in the home of a couple and their two sons in a city where he was starting a new job.   He had moved to the city ahead of his family until they could sell their old home, while he established himself in his new job.  He knew the couple but had never realized what poor housekeepers they were.  To say that the couple’s home was a pigsty was an understatement.  Roaches weaved in and out of an incessant trail of ants who were constantly holding house parties in the weeks’ old spills all over the counters, stove, and floors.  The smell of months’ old urine caked on the toilet bowls gagged the uninitiated at the entry of every bathroom door and took second place only to the months-long litter box pea-and-poop collection of the two cats.  What made it worse was that the family reveled in their filth.  The consistent rallying cry among them was:  “Who is our friend?  DUST is our friend!”

But the man reasoned that one can put up with anything if one knows the end date.  At least that was his motto until the morning he woke up with his scalp feeling as if it were on fire.  When he rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, swirling in the blood on his head were hundreds of tiny baby spiders who were feasting on his scalp and dangling from his hair follicles into his eyes and ears.  As he frantically scrubbed his scalp with anything he could find and screamed in bloody terror, the family’s initial response was:  “We told you that dust is our friend.  I guess spiders are our friends too!” Although the man stayed in the home another week or two, and scrubbed the mattress with a gallon of bleach, he never fully slept again until he rejoined his family.

Spiders en mass Meme

HER:  I’m so sorry, Honey.  I’d forgotten that you have arachnophobia for a reason.  Forget what I said.  We’ll think of something else.  Okay.  Look, we’re at the Costco parking lot.  See.  You love Costco.  You can turn off the car now . . .  Just put one foot in front of the other—baby steps.  I promise, I’ll never tease you about spiders again.  I was being totally obnoxious.  (SCARY SIGN #2)

The old couple became engulfed in Costco, and the man soon forgot his episode in the car. Like most couples, the old man and woman went into Costco to spend $100 but arrived at the cashier’s station having spent more like $600.  The cashier made a snarky remark about the abundance of their purchases (everybody’s a critic!) and offered to provide boxes for all their items, especially the copious fruits for the party. (SCARY SIGN #3)

By the time the old couple left Costco, the rain had stopped, but it was still gloomy and cloudy.  The man was totally back to normal as he and the old woman remarked on how wonderful it was to be part of a global market where one could have the best fruits and vegetables all year round, whether they were in season or not.  When they returned home and unpacked their goodies, they made a game of noting where each box had originated:  grapes, bananas, and mangos from Latin America, Mexico, and South America—oh my!  As the old couple emptied each box, they threw them into the garage at the foot of the stairs, and proceeded to make their dinner.

Like most couples they had their unspoken duties as husband and wife.  Most of the time, the wife would cook, they’d clean up the kitchen together, and now that the kids were grown and gone, the old man would take out the garbage each night and put it in the industrial garbage can in the garage.  But for some reason that night the old man got distracted by the storm that had picked up again and had gone to check on a noise he heard in the basement, so the old woman (still feeling horribly guilty for the spider tease that had traumatized her man) decided to be especially kind and take out the garbage. 

The minute the old woman turned on the garage light, she saw it at the foot of the stairs by the Costco boxes.  She froze.  It froze.  Her mind couldn’t fathom what she was seeing.  It was not from her realm of knowledge.  It was not from North America.  It was the size of her hand.  Big.  Black. Eight legged.  Beady eyed.  Menacing. 

The old woman knew she needed two things:  shoes on her bare feet and a weapon.  She stealthily backed up the stairs (never taking her eyes off the creature), quietly put on her husband’s house slippers, and grabbed the most dangerous weapon in the house—a can of hornet’s spray.  She would have given anything to be a card-carrying, pistol-packing member of the NRA right about then, but…oh well.

Her eyes locked with the eyes of the alien creature, and they stayed frozen in position for what seemed like an eternity as they sized each other up and down.  The old woman would later swear that at that exact moment she heard the theme song to the western:  “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.”

Large Spider Top

Meme Courtesy of

The old man’s wife reasoned that it had to be a spider because of its eight legs, but its body was so big that four legs jutted off to the left and four to the right giving it the ability to zig and zag.  She also reasoned that she’d only have one shot at destroying this demonic creature before the old man saw it.  He’d survived many things, as he had said in the car, but there would be no way he’d survive the sight of this creature.  Talk about a widow maker.

The wife positioned the long-shot hornet’s spray at what she hoped was the perfect angle and pressed the button with all her might.  It was Armageddon at warp speed!  No matter how much she sprayed the goddamn creature, the faster he moved—TOWARDS HER!  The creature chased her, she chased him, paint cans crashed to the floor, ladders crashed to the ground, garden tools slammed against the cars, and the garage floor was awash in toxic bug spray.  Just as the old woman shot out her last stream of killer spray and was about to faint from the fumes, the massive spider tried to make a run for one of the Costco boxes from whence he had come.  “Oh, Hell to the no!” screamed the old woman as she lifted up her leg as high as she could and slammed it down on the massive spider with all her might.  She not only stomped on it, but ground it into the pavement a dozen times or so to make sure the execution was complete.  The old woman would later swear that she heard the screams of a million Huntsman spider babies descending into Hell.  Because that is what the creature was:  the biggest Huntsman spider ever, from either Latin or South America that had made the journey across the border in a Costco shipping box to the home of the most arachnophobic man on the planet—just in time for Halloween.  THE END

Jesus killed the spider

Meme: Google/Anonymous

THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW:  Although the conversation between the “old man” and the “old woman” are embellished, both spider stories, including the showdown in the garage, actually happened to my husband and me.  His arachnid story happened many years ago and was as horrifying as recounted, and my confrontation of the Huntsman spider happened this past weekend after a trip to Costco.  To say I lost my shit in the garage over the encounter with the biggest spider I’ve ever seen in my life would be putting it mildly—but to conclude that I’m seriously wondering if our earthly creatures are a new ISIS terrorist strategy, then you wouldn’t be too far off the mark.  Also, my husband has refused to wear the murder weapon (his house shoes) ever again—even though I washed them.

Happy Halloween!  May God bless you, may God bless these United States of America (and the Earth) by saving and delivering us from the madman in the White House, just as I saved my husband from the attack of the Huntsman spider, before every day in America becomes a “dark and stormy night.”

Menacing spider top


 “From everything I can read about Aussie spiders, it seems like all they really like doing is hiding in your house or garden or car until you ‘accidentally’ disturb them – probably by doing something crazy like putting on the shoe they are lurking in – and they can officially bite you to pieces.”—John Niven


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Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.



Posted by on October 19, 2017 in Uncategorized


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Do you know what I discovered this week? The same thing you all discovered: The uber-Christian Josh Duggar from “19 Kids and Counting” fame has become a verb—as in “to duggar you”—and Christianity got another black eye. (Remember he worked [operative word is “worked”—past tense] for the Family Research Council that advocated opposing LGBT non-discrimination laws, birth control, and divorce?) Pretty soon my religion is going to go blind from all of the explosions in the face it keeps getting from the hypocrites whose lying lives keep backfiring who claim to represent Christ on Earth.

Duggar as verb Luckovich  Atlanta Journal Constitution

Cartoon Courtesy of Mike Luckovich, Atlanta Journal-Constitution

It turns out the Duggar parents had been covering up their oldest son’s “duggaring” while they tried to present themselves as holier than thou to the rest of the world for years. I KNEW IT! I called this hypocrisy cover-up quite a few years ago. When fellow Christians contacted me about their adoration for this family when Mama Duggar won the “Mother of the Year” award in 2004, I took one look at them and decided to distance myself from their media hype, sound the warning bell to any who would listen, and pray that the underbelly of the Duggars would be exposed sooner than later. The more the Duggars tried to hurt and condemn those who did not adhere to their rigid form of Christianity, the more I smelled something rotten in Denmark because I have seen this Christian legalism up-close-and-personal and knew that the outcome always seemed to produce something wicked. I wrote about it in my latest book: Fleeing Oz.

“Show me a place where women are not allowed to be in leadership along with men; show me a religious setting where women are not allowed to voice their opinions without being labelled ‘rebellious,’ and I will show you a place where the abuse of children is not very far beneath the surface of all its piety.” Eleanor Tomczyk, Fleeing Oz

Duggar condemnation

I was going to do an entire exposé on the Duggars and their hypocrisy (tormenting the LGBT community, interfering with women’s reproductive rights, shoving a perverted way of life down our throats as something God was down with), but you can read it for yourselves in the references. The articles are chilling—especially the one by the young woman who could have been a Duggar wife.* In the meantime, Mrs. Duggar—who boasts of having a clown car as a vagina—probably needs to re-examine what it is she’s been doing for the last 20 years “in Jesus’ name.” Mr. Duggar might want to take another look at his sexual philosophy of screwing his wife every other day but Sunday while controlling every single aspect of his wife and girls’ lives (hair must be permed and worn long, dresses must be long and shapeless to keep men from stumbling, hugs and kisses with opposite sex are verboten unless married, and birth control is of the devil). Just maybe Jim Bob’s actions (both controlling and out-of-control) drove his son, Josh, to do what he did (four of the victims being his sisters). The first time I saw a picture of the Duggars (when they were just 14 kids and counting), I didn’t see God’s liberating grace and joy, I saw a woman abused by a “wannabe stud-muffin” who should be ashamed of himself for passing off his “lie of family sexuality” as God’s perfect plan for the Earth. I didn’t see freedom for the female members in his family—I saw abuse—and I wept.

Duggars in Red

Duggars: 14 Kids and Counting

Anyway, going from the disgusting to the mundane, I have got to start packing. We sold our house, we bought another one, and now I have to get moving here. In a week or two, I will take a break from blogging, but I’ll let you know before I go. I am sure I’ll have a lot of blog fodder from moving—the concept of me moving my entire house to an entirely different city is fraught with comedic peril. Just know that this week, I am glad I still loves me some Jesus but no longer hang out in Oz because I am pretty disgusted with a lot of my fellow Christian peeps.

 Moving in the old days

Public Domain Photos (“Moving Day”)


I am discovering that hypocrisy is one of man’s worst failures. It colors everything we say and do, and no human is safe from its tentacles. Beware of people who claim to speak for God’s laws, and whose interpretation of His ways are rigid, unkind, loveless, graceless, controlling, and lacking in mercy. Even with Josh Duggar committing such vile acts against five little girls, I pray for God to have mercy on him and that his victims will be healed. Maybe through the public admittance of his “Duggarisms,” the women in Josh Duggar’s family (his sisters and his wife) might be set free now that the mirror of hypocrisy has shattered his life. May it start with the son and proceed through the father, who I ultimately hold responsible for imprisoning his family, and who is trying to do so to anyone foolish enough to follow this man’s example. Make it so, Lord Jesus—please make it so—or you’re not going to have much of a church left to bear witness to your character. Instead of Christ’s church, it will be Christ’s hypocrites.



(unless otherwise noted, all quotes are from

HYPOCRISY /həˈpäkrəsē/: “the practice of claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one’s own behavior does not conform; pretense.”—Google Online Dictionary

“For me, comedy starts as a spew, a kind of explosion, and then you sculpt it from there, if at all. It comes out of a deeper, darker side. Maybe it comes from anger, because I’m outraged by cruel absurdities, the hypocrisy that exists everywhere, even within yourself, where it’s hardest to see.”—Robin Williams

“There are three things in the world that deserve no mercy, hypocrisy, fraud, and tyranny.”—Frederick William Robertson

Kids have what I call a built-in hypocrisy antenna that comes up and blocks out what you’re saying when you’re being a hypocrite.”—Benjamin Carson

Ben Carson Hypocrisy Meme

“Dr. Carson—dear ‘Christian brother,’ I’ve been wondering why I can’t hear you. . .”—Eleanor Tomczyk


BMProof FleeingOz



Christian Jerks

Cartoon courtesy of Dan Piraro



Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on May 28, 2015 in Uncategorized


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Do you know what I discovered this week? Lots of things.

First: My new book, Fleeing Oz, is now out in Kindle Version! How about that?!

Second: The bookmarks for my book signings arrived, and they look so cool (special shout-out to Earthly Charms Design

 BMProof FleeingOz

Front and Back of Bookmark for Fleeing Oz

Third: I just discovered an old article (by a month or two) about an Arizona legislator who suggested passing a bill that would demand mandatory church attendance for all Americans (her idea to curtail gun violence). Arizona Sen. Sylvia Allen (Republican) said that it was lack of church attendance that caused people to act the fool and want to shoot each other in the ass (my words). She suggested that if we got more American behinds into the pews on Sunday, there would be less killing of each other on Mondays—thus a solution to more gun laws.

Mandatory Church Attendance Wolverton Cagle Cartoons

Cartoon used by permission: Wolverton, Cagle Cartoons

Fourth: Looks as if going to church 24/7 didn’t help the baser needs of the oldest son of the Duggars (Josh Duggar)—you know that TLC reality family where the mother’s vagina is a clown car and 19 and counting kids have sprung from it in the name of Jesus over the past 19 years? Well, the oldest son has allegedly been outed for molesting five girls (four of them his sisters), and the family kept it on the down low for a long time. They were outed by the Oprah Show via an anonymous tip. After a lot of back and forth and forth and back of what to do about the Duggars’ TV show which preached the moral high ground of “how we Duggars live is how all of America should live (no birth control, no kissing or sex before marriage), and gays should have no equal rights, and vote for Huckabee for president—if he can’t save America, no one can!’” It was thought that TLC might look the other way about poor Josh Duggar’s “indiscretions” until another TLC sage (Honey Boo Boo’s mother) who lost her reality show for dating a convicted child molester that had messed with her oldest daughter spoke up:

“I read that the Duggar family said, this happening with their son brought them closer to God and each other. So they’re saying it’s okay to have family touch time? Hell no.”

The Learning Channel (a misnomer if I ever heard one) has cancelled all episodes of “19 Kids and Counting.”

Finally: That jerk Bill O’Reilly of Fox News has been accused by his teenage daughter of physically abusing her mother (he denies it through his lawyers, of course). This “saint” who has professed his Christianity up one side and down the other, who claims to know who is “killing Jesus” (you are, Bill!), and who has given us multiple quotes on what makes a good marriage and great kids is accused of viciously grabbing his ex-wife around the neck and pulling her down the stairs in front of his daughter. My favorite quote of Bill O’Reilly’s on child-rearing is:

“Any clown can have a child.”

Bill OReilly John Darkow Columbia Daily Tribune Missouri

Brian Williams vs. Bill O’Reilly (Pretending to be something they are not) | Cartoon used by permission: John Darkow, Columbia Daily Tribune Missouri

That said, my book, Fleeing Oz, has come at a very appropriate time. It’s all about fleeing the hypocrisy of the Church and those that try to judge the rest of us while they are incapable of “walking the talk.” The book is funny, irreverent, and (if I do say so myself) poignant. So if you’ve been waiting for the Kindle Version to appear, have at it! If you missed the paperback announcement on Amazon, click here!

Fleeing Oz Cover jpg

Learn more about the author:


I am discovering that it is an awesome thing to have finished my second book—that I’m not a one trick pony—I’m a real writer!


Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


Posted by on May 22, 2015 in Uncategorized


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