Girl Guides are Evil

Girl Guides are Evil. There's simply no other way of putting it. They're the sneakiest, most insideous organization in the known universe.

I'm sitting at home last night, frantically putting together a presentation for my PhD committee and there's a knock at the door. I figured it was the Jehova's witnesses again. They've been harassing me ever since I made the mistake of not slamming the door in their faces. Considering that the one time I didn't slam the door in their faces, I got into a heated debate about Evolution with them which I spent telling them (in my subtle, inimitable way) that they were idiots, I don't understand why they keep knocking on my door. I guess they think I can be saved.

But I digress. Suffice it to say, I wasn't lucky enough to have Jehova's Witnesses at my door. In fact, I rather wish I did have Jehova's witnesses at my door. At least I know how to handle them.

I open the door and there stand three girls who looked about twelve. All in their uniforms, all had trouble speaking clearly because they all wore braces, and all of them looked insufferably cute.

Nearby was (I assumed) their mother who looked really, really pissed off.

At any rate, they wanted me to buy some Girl Guide cookies.

First off, I'm sure that somewhere in the preparation of said cookies that they mix in a substantial quantity of Hashish. Girl Guide cookies are quite possibly the most addictive substance in the known universe. Ever notice that you really, really get the munchies after eating a few?

But I digress. I must get back to the original point. Namely that Girl Guides are EVIL.

So these three insufferably cute twelve-year olds are looking up at me, all with that look in their eyes that says "if you don't buy fifty boxes of cookies, I'm going to walk away crying my eyes out." And their mother is looking at me with a look in her eyes that says "if you don't buy fifty boxes of cookies, I'm going to come back here tonight and kill you in your sleep." Either that, or she wanted to be sure I wasn't some kind of child molester or something like that.

They wanted four dollars for a box of cookies.

Now, you can buy a much bigger box of Oreos for four dollars, so this is something of a rip-off. But you don't care about that because you have these three insufferably cute twelve-year olds looking at you with these big puppy dog eyes asking you for four dollars for a little box of cookies. Very addictive crack-laced cookies, to be sure, but a little box of cookies nonetheless. So, I quite literally dig around in my pockets (and the change tray in our front entranceway) and fish out a loonie, seven quarters, ten dimes and five nickles, and hand this handfull of change over to one of the girls. Because as much of a pain in the ass as it was to hunt around and find that much change, I knew that the instant I said "no," the girls' bottom lip would start trembling and their big puppy dog eyes would start watering and frankly, I don't know if I could handle that. Actually, I'm pretty sure I couldn't. Furthermore, even if they just turned around and walked away, I was pretty sure that almost before they made it to the bottom of the walk, I would have been frantically trying to track down four dollars then racing down the street to ask for a box of cookies from these three insufferably cute twelve-year-olds.

Plus, I didn't want their mother to kill me in my sleep.

See what I mean? Evil.