Urgent Letter to God
November 13th 2009 22:00
Dear God,
I want to talk to you about a rather serious matter.
Over the years of my life I have noticed a pattern and have drawn a conclusion that neither you nor me have ever wanted to reach let alone acknowledge as valid but the time for pretending that there is no elephant gallivanting around the room is over. The time has come God, for us to address this rather serious problem we have on our hands.
Look, I recognise that the quality of the male population in the universe is a diluted shade of shitty and you have very little quality to work with here - Iīll give you that much. But if only you could just use a sieve device or some kind of discerning blender, to purify that organic pile of shit that we call the ignorant and useless other Half of Humanity-slash-Opposite sex, life would just be that much easier, people would walk out and smell roses everywhere, roses growing out of tarmac and flying from the sky.
Furthermore you would be saving me and many other Eve descendants from having to sort them out ourselves into the towering pile full of morons to be avoided at all costs, instead of simply and carefully placing them within the boundaries of the scantily clad non-moron pile which is so threadbare there are balls of hay rolling around the place and crickets chirping and some gay men telling us our outfits donīt match, adding insult to injury.
Itīs not pretty God. You donīt take pride in your job any more. You just make this clay ball and call it Adam, forget to add the Cerebral cortex in the head region and the rest of us have to go on dates and stomp on genitals with high heels to make up for where you went wrong. Genital stomping is a difficult thing! Well I wouldnīt know see, I havenīt tried but just one more sexually inappropriate comment on the street and thereīs no telling in which direction my super high fly kicks will go. Does anyone really want to stick around to find out?
Itīs not right. How many Chinese take away boxes suffer the throes of the bitter and heartbroken female? How many tubs of icecream? I have three words for you. Television series DVDS. At least I think thatīs three words, Iīm not entirely sure, could be more. But THAT is what we have been reduced to, God. Think of the environment. No one ever thinks of the environment. Except the Greens and women everywhere. Global warming is manīs fault, so the headlines read. Not surprising at all. Lack of brain functioning activity can do that to a planet. Yes I know you gave us Obama and weīve given him awards to acknowledge that he is different, no pun intended. But is it enough? And anyway Michelle Lady Obama has fantastic dress sense, you simply canīt give it all to the one woman! WHAT WOULD JESUS THINK?!?!?! Oh thatīs right, weīll never know because you went and killed the only good guy in the world!! NICE ONE.
Sorry God I didnīt mean all that. Please donīt strike me with lightening.
Sincerely yours and cowering in fear at your feet,
Shazza
ps. locusts donīt sit well with me either. If you have to plague me, do so with raining chocolate. Lindt perhaps? Just a suggestion. Not looking forward to this delicious plague. Oh alright, Iīm pretty excited now.
I want to talk to you about a rather serious matter.
Over the years of my life I have noticed a pattern and have drawn a conclusion that neither you nor me have ever wanted to reach let alone acknowledge as valid but the time for pretending that there is no elephant gallivanting around the room is over. The time has come God, for us to address this rather serious problem we have on our hands.
Look, I recognise that the quality of the male population in the universe is a diluted shade of shitty and you have very little quality to work with here - Iīll give you that much. But if only you could just use a sieve device or some kind of discerning blender, to purify that organic pile of shit that we call the ignorant and useless other Half of Humanity-slash-Opposite sex, life would just be that much easier, people would walk out and smell roses everywhere, roses growing out of tarmac and flying from the sky.
Furthermore you would be saving me and many other Eve descendants from having to sort them out ourselves into the towering pile full of morons to be avoided at all costs, instead of simply and carefully placing them within the boundaries of the scantily clad non-moron pile which is so threadbare there are balls of hay rolling around the place and crickets chirping and some gay men telling us our outfits donīt match, adding insult to injury.
Itīs not pretty God. You donīt take pride in your job any more. You just make this clay ball and call it Adam, forget to add the Cerebral cortex in the head region and the rest of us have to go on dates and stomp on genitals with high heels to make up for where you went wrong. Genital stomping is a difficult thing! Well I wouldnīt know see, I havenīt tried but just one more sexually inappropriate comment on the street and thereīs no telling in which direction my super high fly kicks will go. Does anyone really want to stick around to find out?
Itīs not right. How many Chinese take away boxes suffer the throes of the bitter and heartbroken female? How many tubs of icecream? I have three words for you. Television series DVDS. At least I think thatīs three words, Iīm not entirely sure, could be more. But THAT is what we have been reduced to, God. Think of the environment. No one ever thinks of the environment. Except the Greens and women everywhere. Global warming is manīs fault, so the headlines read. Not surprising at all. Lack of brain functioning activity can do that to a planet. Yes I know you gave us Obama and weīve given him awards to acknowledge that he is different, no pun intended. But is it enough? And anyway Michelle Lady Obama has fantastic dress sense, you simply canīt give it all to the one woman! WHAT WOULD JESUS THINK?!?!?! Oh thatīs right, weīll never know because you went and killed the only good guy in the world!! NICE ONE.
Sorry God I didnīt mean all that. Please donīt strike me with lightening.
Sincerely yours and cowering in fear at your feet,
Shazza
ps. locusts donīt sit well with me either. If you have to plague me, do so with raining chocolate. Lindt perhaps? Just a suggestion. Not looking forward to this delicious plague. Oh alright, Iīm pretty excited now.
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