Midnight confessions

As I’m sure most of you know, Easter is this Sunday. And while that might fill many of you with thoughts of jellybeans or those delicious Cadbury chocolate eggs, I find myself looking more at the spiritual side of things. In fact, one thing I’ve always liked about the Catholic religion is their confessionals (another is their school girl outfits, but that doesn’t really have anything to do with this column).

I don’t know why, but I’ve always liked the idea of going into a little booth and just cleansing my soul. So, since I don’t see myself converting to Catholicism anytime soon, I thought I would use my space here this week to get some things off my chest. So, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned ...

When I originally created the site, it turned out that someone else actually owned the HoboTrashcan.com domain, so I killed him and bribed Hobo Stu with Skittles to dispose of the body.

At parties, I try to impress women by telling them that I'm a writer and editor for Maxim. It used to work really well, but these days the ladies just complain about how the magazine isn't good anymore.

The real reason Katie Couric is going to the CBS Evening News is because of the column I wrote back in October called "The Katie Couric Effect." Comparing her public mammogram to Tyra Banks' really caused Katie to reevaluate things.

I am the one who sculpted the statue of Britney Spears giving birth on a bearskin rug. The reason the face looks nothing like hers is because I was thinking of Christina Aguilera the whole time.

I wish that I had Jessie's girl.

I put Baby in the corner.

When I was on stage presenting at the Selfies presenting the Kwame Brown "At some point it's not everyone else fault you suck" award, I said Joey Harrington's name, even though the name on the envelope was David Carr.

These days, when I fantasize about Jewel, I find myself thinking of other women.

Despite what I've bragged to my friends, I'm not actually a black belt in karate and I've never kicked Jackie Chan's ass. However, I really wanted to after watching The Tuxedo.

Sometimes, when I'm by myself and feeling blue, I rock out to Wham's "Careless Whisper."

From time to time, I sit down with a pad and paper and just practice different combinations of "Joel Savage," "Joel Murphy-Savage," "Mr. Tashina Savage" ...

Ned Bitters hit on me at the office Christmas party ... now, I know that's not really a confession about me, but I'm hoping maybe this column will inspire Ned to come out and purge his soul, too. That guy has some demons.

I stopped donating money to that single mom who was taking classes at the community college. I wanted to keep helping her out, but I just haven't been able to make it to the strip club lately.

I Google myself.

I covet my neighbor's cheese fries.

I did not actually buy this month's Playboy to read the articles. I bought it to see the photos of Rachel Sterling. However, I think the elderly woman behind the counter fell for my clever ruse.

I judge people based on their preferences in movies. For instance, if someone tells me they are excited to see The Benchwarmers, I think they are mentally challenged.

Peter, I know I've joked for years that your mom is hot, but I only do it because your mom is, in fact, very hot.

Marie, I'm the one who ate your Jesus pancakes.

Justin, I know we have debated about it for years, but if I'm being completely honest, when Gorilla Monsoon restarted the Ironman Match at Wrestlemania XII, Bret Hart should have been allowed to reapply the Sharpshooter to Shawn Michaels ... no, I'm only kidding. Great call by Gorilla Monsoon and definitely the right thing to do.

Mark, I am the one who convinced your grandmother to do those Grandmas Gone Wild videos. And, I just have to say for the record, she definitely earned those beads.

Whenever someone drives really slow in front of me or cuts me off on the highway, I really want them to die. I'm not actually asking for forgiveness on this one, God. I just thought, since I was confessing all of this other stuff, maybe you could actually hook me up and make it happen next time.

Random thought of the week:
With the children of America getting fatter and fatter each year, I'm starting to wonder if the FDA is really run by the witch from Hansel and Gretel.

Joel Murphy is the creator of HoboTrashcan, which is probably why he has his own column. He also has some really hot friends. You can contact him at murphyslaw@hobotrashcan.com.