Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Because God Says So--That's Why!

Fucking God is up to his old tricks again. This time, the old bastard decided that he just couldn't let the last day of the Olympics go off without a hitch.



This guy in the skirt that looks like a pizza box was just doing what God told him to do when he jumped out and tackled the guy who looks like he's either pooping his pants or just finding out that there's no water at the finish line. This article says that the "defrocked Irish priest" has tried this type of stunt before to promote the teachings of God at cricket and rugby matches. God has a bad P.R. department then because you'd think he'd pick events that people actually give a fuck about. I heard he's planning to have somebody run into the auditorium and throw over a chess board at an exhibition match at a high school for the deaf in Ohio. There's going to be a lot of unintelligible moaning and hand movement to be heard for feet and yards around.

I don't know about you, but I'm sick of this God character. He tells all these people to do all sorts of weird shit, and nobody ever calls him on that. Nobody ever says to blame God when they lose the Superbowl, but, when they win it, he's the first one they thank. Congratulations, you just won a Grammy, who would you like to thank? Well, first I'd like to thank my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Horatio Christ. Just once, I want to see this.

INT. AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Some shitty band stands up on the stage announcing the winner for Best New Artist.

Evanescence: And the Grammy goes to...Simply Red!

The crowd applauds as Holding Back the Years blares. Suddenly, all of Culture Club stands up, points to the sky and yells: Fuck you, God!!! You promised! You said if we did a song called "Karma Chameleon," you'd totally give us a Grammy. We don't even know what a Karma Chameleon is!

That's what I want to see. First, I'd have to get that Time Machine working. It just isn't fair that God always gets off scot-free. But if I told somebody that I'm going to help them win something, and, if they win, they have to thank me, but if they lose, they can't blame me, they'd look at me like I was crazy and then ask why I was wearing nothing but rainbow suspenders and a garter belt and standing in the middle of their lawn while the sprinklers were on while hoisting my boom box blasting "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel in the air a la John Cusack in Say Anything. The previous 89 words were brought to you by the John Steinbeck Foundation for Run-On Sentences. Next time something doesn't go my way, I'm blaming God. When I go to Vegas in a week and a half, if I lose, I'm going to interrupt some sporting events, like a pinata beating at a children's party or a Scrabble Championship, with signs that say, "God Hates You" and "If God Really Loved You, Would He Have Given You That Lazy Eye? I Didn't Think So. That Means He Doesn't Exist. You Should Probably Go Think About That Suicide Now." Maybe that second one would be a banner.

God just told me I'm done writing this entry.

Interesting thought of the day:
Frosting is good on EVERYTHING. Seriously. I put frosting on a sandwich of my own pubic hair and it was delicious.

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