Father Abraham Wishes he had Many Sons

How dare you criticize your God? You bunch of ingrates- that’s it, all your first born will turn into locusts. Hope you’re happy with yourselves. Oh, not really, I already explained it’s too much damned work and shit, I’m not really feeling up to it.

However, some of you are complaining that I promised to answer your more popular questions through the ages and clear up some holy book misconceptions, and apparently, I’m not doing this in a way you short-lived earth animals can properly understand. That’s understandable- your days are short, not much time for grasping the great cosmological truths or some shit like that. On the other hand, if you’d do a little less whining and a little more thinking, you’d probably get closer to figuring it out. Oh well, guess I have to spoon feed you like we spoon feed our delicious veal up here. They’re pampered, until they’re lunch… Unless Jesus saves them. He has entire colony of delicious meat hiding somewhere on the shores of Hades. Normally, he hates Hades, says it’s too dirty.

Anyway, I was going through my big file of bizarre questions from you people who really, really want a divine leader.- and one I think would be fun to answer is why did I allow Abraham to disown his son and tell him to sacrifice Isaac?

Man, did you guys get that all wrong or what? Here’s the deal- I didn’t have a thing to do with that. See,  neither Ishmael nor Isaac were REALLY Abraham’s sons. Sarah’s handmaiden, Hagar (or The Hag as Sarah liked to call her) lied about Abe being Ishmael’s baby dayddy. She was hoping to extort some sheep out of old Abe and displace Sarah as his wife- Hag was a crazy ole bitch. Sarah’s maid got around- a lot, even old Atlas got a piece of that- and he doesn’t even really like girls so much!  Ishmael was actually Thor’s son, and Thor wasn’t into reaping what he sowed. Still isn’t, you ladies should stay away from him. So, Sarah’s old maid blamed it on old Abe- who she’d had a bit of the old in and out with on several occasions. Well, Abe bought it; it meant he wasn’t the one shootin’ blanks with Sarah. Now, I know your holy books, or fantasy readings, says Abe married Hagar- sometimes things get whitewashed, Abe wasn’t a bad guy, just dumb as a stone.

Well, Sarah, not to be outdone by The Hag, because in Sarah’s words, ‘that slut ain’t got shit on me,’ decides to get herself knocked up by good ole Ra (which caused all sorts of problems with the Egyptians  much later). Sarah was a feisty one and had a nice ass on her. Too bad she decided to waste it on a putz like Abraham. All that beauty wasted on sheep and a doughy manboy of a husband.

Now, that Sarah had Isaac, she really put the screws to ole Abe. She decided he didn’t need to spending all that time with Ishmael- who by the way, she realized wasn’t Abe’s bastard when she saw his blue eyes and strong Norse chin. Well, she didn’t know it was Norse, she just knew none of her people had a chin quite like it. Now, Sarah wasn’t completely heartless, she gave the woman and the bastard child three sheep and a blanket as payment to leave and never come back. You woulda thought Abe might notice neither if these boys resembled him even a little, but again, he was a putz. That man was so stupid just thinking of him makes me want to roll a big one.

Anywho, The Hag and her son leave quietly, but with you beings liking revenge as much as you do, they hatch a long term plan against Abe and ‘that prissy bitch’ Sarah and her ‘spoiled demon spawn’ of a son, Isaac. Trust me, Hagar didn’t want to leave quietly and Sarah knew something was up when she didn’t make a ruckus.

I’d like to think you are smart enough to see where this is going, but you guys stockpile useless bits of scrap paper and actually give stuff away when people offer these useless scraps of shit to you. Not very smart of you… Not very smart. So Hagar knowing her son was a bit different, you know, Thor being the baby daddy and all, decides to start some sort of cult around him being special. All it took was a little bit of opium for the easily fooled and ‘accidental’ death for the nonbelievers. Still not sure how being tied to four oxen and getting pulled apart looks accidental, but I never accused you of bein’ a smart species. Eventually, people started following her and they made Ishy their leader, but that’s all an answer for another day. Shhiiittt she had a good thing going. Besides, Ishy was kinda’ hot- and you dumbasses do like being told what to do by good looking mouthpieces.

Now, during all this, Abraham starts to think something is kinda’ strange about Isaac- he didn’t have the shepherding in his blood; he preferred dressing the sheep up in turquoise jewelry to actually shepherding them, and he kept lighting stuff on fire, because it reminds him of the sun. I failed to mention Ra is our resident arsonist. In fact, you ended up with a sun because a fire involving our last Helious tree- which was a tree that shimmered, because it leaves- if you could call them that, we’re basically gas encased in droplets of dew- well that’s the closest comparison I have, it’s basically a glassy- liquidy substance. He lit that sucker on fire using Odin’s thunderstick and there was no putting that out. We did roast some Rollamoots first, marshmallows to you guys, then banished that tree.

So, Hagar puts Ishmael up to hiding behind a tree and being the disembodied voice of a dead hooker or something like that, and tell Abe to take his son out and sacrifice him to his dead ancestors or whatever. Then, take Ishmael back, because he was destined for great things and order Sarah to make The Hag sammiches for the rest of her natural life. Abe being of a superstitious mind, was easily convinced it was his grandmother or some shit. Apparently, his grandmother was manly or something.

Also, Abe was kind of tired of finding his sheep wearing jewelry and his tents on fire and figures this is a good way to get rid of the bugger. So, Abraham decides to take Isaac for a special haircut- one that he wouldn’t come back from… Well, Sure Ra likes to occasionally destroy entire cities here in Godland, but he really is a good baby daddy, so the whole shenanigans with the Ram and the don’t kill your son, well, that was orchestrated by Ra.

Now, where was I through all this shit? Well, I was sitting here doing Opium and eating poppyseed bagels- that may be the best substance to have come out of the creation of your little planet. It may in fact make you the best experiment ever. You really are an endless source of entertainment for us in Godland; it’s like an ant farm on a cosmic scale. All the interference from my cohorts has turned you into a giant pain in the ass, at times, but what the hell, most of you will only live once. I’ll just roll up the Godja weed, make some ANgel Tear Tea and watch the activities commence. Though, I do enjoy screwing with you from time to time… Like when I poured the juice of the Red Elyda fruit into your water.

Well, until next time, peace and blessed be. This is the Alpha Dog signing off

Sent from my gpad.

2012
11/12
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Angel Tears and Boogeymen

The Big Alpha here- I was informed, recently, I use the wrong dash when I’m typing. See, apparently where I’ve been using the short dash (-) I should be using a long dash (image not available). Well, seeing as how I’m God, I never do anything wrong, so you guys should probably get to correcting your little grammar rule.

There’s nothing better than Angel Tear tea with a little drop of honey- so sweet and refreshing, you gotta try it with scones- great for the munchies. Don’t go thinking anything messed up, man, those Angel Tears are flowers- Aphrodite first grew them. Their petals are paper thin  and shimmer and change color- in the morning light they start off a pale translucent yellow- by evening they turn a deep red. The stems are about this big- oh, you can’t see my hands- the stems grow about a foot (American measurements- since I have the largest amount of blind mice- sorry soldiers, there) and on each stem grow flowers that look like mini- peonies. They’re packed so tightly the shimmery green barely peeks through. When you’re walking and come across a field, it looks like a glistening pool of rainbows. Jesus hangs out in those fields a lot. So take a few buds; steep them in hot water and you have Angel Tear tea.

Now, real angel tears are another story. Real angel tears are like a psychedelic trip through a bouncy castle. One tear… maybe two or three… And your legs feel like soft melting rubber and everything starts moving in slow motion. You can see all of creation, you melt into it and become all of creation. Interesting stuff, probably what the authors of your holy books took before they started writing. That’s a thought for you, isn’t it? Everyone of your Gods were born from the frenzied mind of some madman embraced in the arms of a hallucination so real, that he himself has become part of creation… You praise the rantings of drug-addled madmen from the past and condemn your fellow drug-addled madmen of the present. Oh well, think I’ll just have some tea. It has a nice, calming effect.

So, I told Tod- your boogeyman  about my divine plan to let him answer a question or two and he was so happy he ate an entire box of crayons- that was a rainbow to behold. Tod loves rainbows.

For Tod’s Q&A, he’ll do the answering and I’ll do the typing. See, man, Tod ain’t so bright. He really only knows about three words in your earthly language and if he were to type, it’d look like this- thnhrrgjg. Sometimes, he gets a little excitable so we have to give him some Angel Tear tea and Godja weed. Man, last time he got excited, he ran from Mt. Olympus to Valhalla singing ‘teapots, turkeys and tomatoes, teapots, turkeys and tomatoes’ over and over and again. Did I mention he did this with a merry band of drunken Centaurs?  Those Romans really liked making out with horses. It caused an earthquake so big Hera didn’t need to use her ‘electronics’ for months.

So, without further ado, or adon’t, onto our question of the week. Tod’s question will be, let’s make it an easy one- What does Heaven, or as we like to call it here, Godland, look like?

Tod: I, um, I, um, it’s- we are a bubble. Hey… No, We are inside a bubble and I like bubbles because they are fun and when you eat the crayons you can use the unicorns’ horns to pop the little bubbles, too and it goes splash and it tickles my nose. And some, um, sometimes if I try real hard and when our bubbles is next to your bubble and I have my favorite unicorn horn and brother’s dun… My frot, my funder’s… Hey… No, my brother’s fun dust, I could come see Earth and make intim… Tomato… Post… Hey… No, imagination castles and-um- and um- play, but then they were mean to me, so I can’t play with the stinky, meanie, heads over- (unintelligible yelling).

See, my little soldiers, this was your boogeyman. C’est la vie. You religious types think you’re misunderstood. How do you think Tod feels? Think about Tod next time there’s a a weird looking stranger hiding under your kids’ bed, be a little less judgmental guys. Maybe he’ll just want a little milk and cookies.

Peace be and I bless.

2012
10/31
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The Boogeyman Ain’t so Bad

Hallelujah from Godland. Hallelujah is a fine greeting, except it has so many syllables- such is life or immortality or something. Speaking in your species cliches gets difficult sometimes- makes me think I should drink a little more Ambrosia, and maybe smoke a little.

I think most of my little community went to watch Jesus perform in a Godland edition on Jesus Christ All-Star, starring the Mt. Olympus amateur theatre and some drag queens Adonis found. No JC production would be complete without glitter and drag queens, does me proud, he does.

I’m feeling a little mellow today- so I thought I’d answer more of a nostalgic question. I used to get calls on the Godline all the time about the Boogeyman. Who was the Boogeyman? Was he under the bed or in the closet? Would he really take you from mommy and daddy? I don’t get those so much anymore- but I feel like answering it anyway- I’m god, I can do that.

Here’s the deal, my little lemmings, you are the Boogeyman. The bad stuff you do to each other, that’s when you become the Boogeyman. You choose to hurt someone else, be mean, eat the last of the peanut butter and you choose to be the Boogeyman- just kidding. You guys aren’t really the Boogeyman, you’re actually worse.

There is a Boogeyman, he’s my older brother, Tod. See- he’s a little different. See, when most of us others come for a little jaunt- we like to appear as pleasant, fairly attractive specimens according to your customs- not Tod. See Tod has his own idea of what things should look like and he likes to dance (thus, the nickname). I’m not sure how he figured out how to get to you guys, he’s not smart (Loki is behind that, I bet)- but he did.

He hates most of you adult types- says evolution formed you all wrong. You’re boring and smell funny- and mostly, you don’t dance. You call him names and kick him and says he’s dumb and doesn’t deserve any of your time. You’re all a bunch of ugly stupid heads. Kids, however, he loves. They used to dance and color and aren’t stupid heads. So he used to hide in their closets or under their beds until the grown-ups wandered off to bed, so he could play with them. What fun they had! They would dance and color and sneak downstairs and eat ice cream! Sometimes, he would use God dust and create an imagination castle- with unicorns and dinosaurs for pets and cotton candy pillows and a bouncy dance floor! Walls were made of candy canes and crayons! All night they would play and dance.

Then, something changed. Rhe kids told the adults and the adults decided the kids needed to be made normal. The adults didn’t believe them and would take them to be put in hospitals and be on medicine- until they promised not to believe in Imagination castle. He says the kids would be mean to him and call him names and make fun of him, because sometimes he liked to eat the purple crayons, so he started hiding and just watching them- just wanting a friend. Then, the rumors started he would kidnap and eat you- if he caught you.

In all fairness, Tod did borrow a kid once- brought him right over here. Not sure how he got him into the bubble- but we took him back unharmed. He was 5 or 6, the little boy and Tod wanted to show him his collection of My Little Ponies- Jesus bought them for him on his 3rd or 4th coming or going in our case.

Well, Tod got real sad and hasn’t left Godland in- well lots of your years… So no more sightings and no more questions. He sure does miss the kids. I’m thinking about maybe he should help a small planet become an Imagination castle, but he just ain’t right. He’s squirrelier than Jesus. Everyone’d be eating crayons and changing colors…

I think maybe I’ll let Tod answer a question or two. That’ll make him happier than an Elephino in a daisy patch.

Well, i’m gonna sign off now. Your Heavenly Father needs herbal therapy, and maybe needs to find my binder full of women. When you have an eternity, the little black book just ain’t enough.

2012
10/19
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Luck, Banks and Boobies

So, the Divine Dude here, I love having Jobsy around. He is brilliant- Godja Weed laced with this awesome magic god dust, what a trip. This dude knows his stuff- he puts the fun in functional. He’s designing a Godja plant that doesn’t need destemmed. Also, lovin’ this new gPad. What a Godsend! Get it, I’m God and I didn’t send him anywhere. It’s an anti-pun or some shit.

Anyway, I figure I should answer some question from one of my precious little lambs… You like that don’t you? Being called precious; it’s the external gratification you crave. Well, I don’t really think you’re precious- I just know you need some quote to take out of context, that way you don’t have to flat-out lie.

So question to answer, question to answer…

This one is always fun. If you pray hard enough will you win the lotto? No, man, no way. Here’s the thing, I’m not a hippie like Jesus or anything, but do you really need a more money than there are stars in the heavens? I hate to break it to you, but when you die your dead. And your money, it doesn’t care if you die or not.

Also, I don’t really intervene- maybe sometimes i use some magic dust to help granny fill in her bingo card, or occasionally I like to look over a shoulder and play some black jack in Vegas. But overall, money ain’t my thing. What in the hell do you need houses that much shit for guys? Every dime you make that you don’t need is a dime someone else has a real need for. But a lot of you are assholes who don’t think about that shit- but I do. This is a point of contention between Jobsy and me. The universe should have swallowed, I think sometimes. Give me this, give me that. Why can’t I have what she has? You know, man, because…

Actually, your species is old enough to know the real story behind money… Lusty Lady Luck- She’s really high-strung and loves to give it to you, just to take it away- a double-edged sword. She’s a shifty one, she is. Trust me- big ole tease she is, but she has some nice titties. Nice titties will get you as far here as they will there; she was my naughty little administrative assistant for awhile.
She kept fucking up the paperwork, though…

How do you think people who do nothing but deal with symbolic pieces of paper that are worth nothing in natural value made it so high up in the food chain? Well, she answered the Godline one day, someone was crying about their momma starving and not wanting to grow up to be a slave. Well, they just happened to catch the Lady on a good day and she decided to flip her lucky coin to see if she would help…She has a lucky coin and a lucky die, but I think she really wanted to help and 50/50 is better odds than 1 in 6… Last time she helped, we had that whole thing with Samson- what a mess that was.

Anyway, coin comes up heads, so she helps- she drops this damned coin “accidentally” and this, crybaby don’t wanna be a slave anymore, Roman sees it- and boom- everyone wants one. What’s it do? Nothing- lays there. It’s only value? Shiny.

People keep offering him more and more stuff for this shiny coin and he gets rich. Pretty soon, everyone wants one, so to balance it out- she drops a few more for a few lucky mortals to find. Next thing you know, people are making their own shiny metal discs and trading them for useful things… Then, they figure out they can take advantage of the system by letting other people borrow their shiny discs, if they promise to give back more shiny discs… The lengths you humans go through to obtain useless shiny discs- is mind boggling man.

Long story short, when you hire someone for their boobies, bad things are gonna happen.The people who collect the largest amounts of useless shiny discs and scrap paper with pictures wins. So now, the least industrious money collectors, bankers, hoarders are considered the greatest among you.

Now, I don’t think Miss Luck meant for this to happen this way, she never does. She’s just not that into long term planning- doesn’t need to be- she has titties, beautiful titties.

2012
10/17
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Ponies and Other Words of Wisdom

Hello, friends, followers and fanatics! So, Stevie- that’s what I call the former Mr. Jobs. Well, former to you- new to me. So he and I were sitting up here staring at the clouds- one looked like a pony. No, not the apocalyptic kind the “4- horsemen” you dumb asses who believe in fairy tales like a 6000 year old earth are so fond of, but a real pony. It takes a lot longer than 6000 years to hone certain types of stupidity, which so many of you possess. You know who you are. On second thought, no you don’t.

Anyway, back to this pony. So Stevie and I are laying there, looking at our cloud pony, and I don’t know- maybe it didn’t look like a pony- but I’m your God, so my word is unfailing- I love that line, it’s an easy out for anything. Old Stevie agrees, it’s not our fault, it’s yours. So anyway, this pony cloud is floating by and we’re looking at it, and Stevie turns to me and says,”You know, if that pony were designed intelligently, it wouldn’t have so many parts.”

“No shit. ” And that was it- the pony was gone. He’s becoming quite hands-on with his little planet- apparently working on Designing an Intelligent pony with no legs. Sometimes, I think I shoulda’ been hands-on, kinda like I was with the not-so-virgin Mary. Then, I think that I don’t really think so, because always being right means no doubts, bitches. Besides, Zeus sowed enough wild oats for the both of us.

So back to ole Stevie, because I like him. He’s got chutzpah. You may be wondering how he got here to Godland. Well, I’m sill investigating that- not really. Sometimes, these things happen. Of course, he’s been a wonderful addition- he’s working on updating our electronics. Even named a phone after Jesus. That’s all stuff for another one of you r earth days, though. Though, I think he colluded with Al, well Albert… Einstein or Nicky T(much catchier than Nikolai or Tesla) to make it- sometimes you guys just get here (I’m thinking some wild oats and some hanky-panky resulting in some new bloodlines).

So, I guess I should answer some question from one of you nincompoops, but truth be told- I’m not really feeling up to answering anything, and I truly can’t tolerate the whiny, self-righteous, celebrated ignorance some of you seem to relish in, while I’m sober. So I’m not going to even bother to take a peek at your shame.

I will, however, pose a question. Do some of you really believe my hippie-pink tutu wearing, glitter eyeshadow addicted son was married? Ever?

Well, this is YHWH signing out.

Sent from my gPhone

2012
10/09
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My Holiest View on Aliens and Stuff

Hey, hey, hey, so God here, just thinking, not doing much, just had a lady friend over and thought I would check in with my favorite bunch of aliens. Now let’s think about that statement for a moment, shall we?

So, I got an email on my GodMail, at about 4:30pm yesterday, right after I smoked my Godja Weed. I added the time there, because you are a bunch of OCD little twats- seriously, never have I started another chain reaction that created a more time-oriented bunch of nutters. By time-oriented, I meant OCD, you love to count the minutes until your deaths. Think about that, each minute you spend waiting for the end is a minute wasted. Hint: I’m not coming and Jesus is too busy learning to play the didgeridoo- he thinks it will bring some umph to the drum circle he, Apollo and Aphrodite started- to come fulfill any fairy tales you tell your kids at night. I mean, really? Maybe we’ll talk about what the hell is wrong with waiting for me to fix your damned problems next time, right now I want to talk about some fucking aliens.

So at 4:30pm yesterday, I received a GodMail asking if there were aliens or life on other planets or really hot women on Mars. I get this question a lot, especially the hot women on Mars question. Well, in all fairness, you quit asking about hot women on Mars about 40 years ago your time, maybe 30, who knows, but I did get it a lot when you thought to ask it. So are there aliens?

Well, as I was still reflecting upon the greatness of the Godja weed and seeing “the rainbow of love” as we like to call it here in Godland, I looked at ‘ole Zeus and I said, ”Zeus, man that was some good shit.”
“Yeup, best crop we had yet, Aphrodite musta’ given it a little extra love, yeup.”
“Yeup.”

Anyway, that’s not what you asked about, you asked about aliens, but I’m getting to that- see the Godja got me thinking a little different- and I realized- You guys are the aliens. Think about that- won’tcha. If there is life on other planets, technically, I’m here on another planet, so technically I’m an alien. Not a real alien, though, I don’t have tentacles, but the Kraken does and he can play a mean guitar. Man, you ain’t heard shit until you’ve heard a Kraken play guitar. Maybe I should have Jesus to invite the Kraken to his little hippie circle to play in his little hippie band, just tell the Kraken to wear a pink neckerchief and some of that body glitter of which Jesus is so fond- maybe win him over a little.

Anyway, back to life on other planets. I gotta say, I hope the hell not. One planet full of bitchy, whiny, adult children is enough for me. I can’t imagine trying to communicate and serve as the giver of knowledge for another planet full of over-intelligent apes. Actually, apes may be more intelligent, they’re happy sitting around eating and picking lice off of each other- no worries about time or who has the shiniest new toy. Oh, speaking of shiny toys, Steve Jobs says hi and hopes you like your new iPhones. Now you know why they called it the Jesus phone (he’s still very hands on with the whole process). Jesus wishes he’d be as hands on with him, says he’s willing to bide his time; he has plenty.

Also, Stevie here, says there is in fact life on another planet. That planet is roughly two galaxies away from yours and has some magical and revolutionary architecture. He’s busy eating some Jobshrooms- already has a plant named after himself, and I’ll tell you what, it’s a mighty aesthetically pleasing plant. Anyway, he’s busy eating some Jobshrooms and wondering if he won’t go take a better look at that planet, maybe help it along a little bit- show them the wonders of brushed adamantium. I warned him, he was in for an eternity of pain and stupidity, but if he insisted on going, maybe he should take Beelzebub with him. We’ll see where he stands when those ‘shrooms wear off.

Well, my children, my sheep, the lambs of my life, this is Adonai signing off- Amen and I bless.

2012
09/27
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Ponies Suck

Yhwh here folks. Aphrodite sends her regards- she’s running around here somewhere naked.

So, funny enough this week I got a LOT of spam on the Godline. You know who you are- people who only pray when the lottery gets really big. So, why didn’t I let you win? You needed it more… That’s the topic this week- Stupid people who pray for stupid things, because they think I give a fuck about the lottery, their local Tuesday night Bingo game, or that damned pony they want so bad.
Guess what? I don’t care, not really. You want a pony, tough shit, I got Ethiopians praying for food and I’m not interventionist enough to do that. Why would I give you a fucking pony or a half million dollars? I’m a hands off kind of God. Nah, just yanking your chain.

The problem lies in all these rules and physics and, you know, that science-y stuff some of you choose to ignore. Hint: just because you ignore doesn’t mean it’s not there. See, I can’t really actively intervene- well, not on a LARGE scale. If I change one thing here- then, something has to change there. You know, actions/reactions, blah blah. For example, say I give Bubba (that’s not his real name, all name’s have been changed to protect the innocent), now say I give Bubba in Ethiopia enough rain and land to grow rice for his entire refugee camp…

First, enough people have to die that it becomes the property of Bubba. I can’t just GIVE it to him- natural rights and all that shit.

Then, the weather has to be compliant- that there tales some real magic, abra-cadabra. In fact, last time we tried to grow rice in Ethiopia- KABOOM- fucking flood- you half-wits want that?

Third,some militia dude will kill all the campers to take the rice.

As for the pony, well if I can’t fucking feed Ethiopians, why should I give you a pony? I still don’t give a shit about your pony OR your Bingo game. Now about the lottery, I can’t win the lottery here in Godland- Lady Luck is a bitch- she won’t let anyone else win. Why in my name should I let you win the lottery? I mean, you won’t even spend it on rice for those starving Ethiopians you care so much about, much less the starving kid next door.

Also, that whole action reaction thing- I let you win the lottery, you get even more selfish and ask for even more ridiculous things… Like ponies and ponies suck. Once Jesus had a unicorn pony- yes a 33 year old man with a pony. It shit on my foot. I hate ponies.

2012
04/02
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A Solution to All Your Birth Control Objections

All is well in Godland, Mt. Olympus, Heaven, Nirvana, and Valhalla. Purgatory, not so much- it seems that Cerberus has been a fickle puppy lately. He peed on Hades shoes- while he was wearing them. Never try to convince a dog that’ more intelligent than you are that turkey bacon and pig bacon are the same thing. Anyway, I saved you from a close one- Thor wants to play his xylophone for you guys, but I buried his hairbrush under my favorite olive tree, so he’s been pre-occupied with finding it. He’s really about as vain as they come.

I know what I’ll talk about- birth control and the gays… So, I’ve been hearing from a few of the whinier dipshits among you, that some of you are having the gay sex and others are using the birth control. Well, the way I figure it, if more of you would have the gay sex, less of you would need the birth control. Putting ‘the’ in front of things just makes it sound more interesting, doesn’t it? More churchy, more gossipy, more sarcastic-I gotta admit, I do enjoy it.

So, I’m going to address this to all you morons who are so worried about OTHER people having the gay sex or using the birth control. First, Jesus is VERY offended by the fact you are so homophobic; your homophobia makes him cry into his pink lace hanky every night. I’m tired of listening to the woeful, drama queen sobs. Shit keeps me up all night. I need my beauty sleep, so stop it- so saith Ie-hovah (that’s me, too).

Speaking of Jesus- When he was younger,  Jesus had a pet bunny. He would love him, and hug him and call him Esther… Esther bunny is a transgender bunny- he and Jesus would play dress-up all the time. He couldn’t have been born into a better time period (he loved, well loves, sandals and dresses).  One day after 6-year-old Jesus and his uncle Little Luci (you know, Lucifer) were out playing and Lucifer the little trickster he is convinced Jesus he could walk on water… Somehow, he got his hands on my God Dust. Honestly, I think Luci and Loki planned this together- never quite figured out Loki’s part in it, though, but Luci doesn’t usually steal my God Dust… So he sneaks some God Dust onto Jesus’ sandals and BOOM- Jesus can walk on water.

Well, Jesus, being the brilliant, unique snowflake that he was and always will be (I think I’ll blame him on Zeus, Mary sure was inviting to us ‘deities’) was convinced that not only could he walk on water, but his transgendered rabbit friend, Esther could learn to walk on water, too. Now. Growing up Jesus didn’t have any friends- he was a little weird, people didn’t take to kindly to little boys who would rather learn belly dancing than carpentry. So Jesus takes Esther bunny and decides to teach him (her) to walk on water- they get to the river and like any aspiring genius decides to just throw that damned bunny right in… And what do you think happened? The damned bunny drowned.

Long story short, because I’m tired of telling this damned story. Jesus goes crying to our good virgin, Mary, and Mary comes bitchin’ to me… Nag, nag, nag, nag- those ‘ancient’ Israeli women knew how to nag something fierce- Good thing Joseph was half-deaf, he didn’t have to listen to the shrill voice of that shrew.  So, I hunted down Little Luci and explained to him, if he did not fix the situation, I would have Neptune shove his pitchfork straight up his (Luci’s) ass. Neptune likes shoving pitchforks up asses… It’s kind of his hobby, and sometimes he gets paid for it… So, Luci goes and uses some God Dust to resurrect the stupid rabbit and now we have a holiday for the damned rabbit’s rebirth- Easter (yeah, you humans love to change the spelling of words a lot. Jesus just happened to disappear the same day 27 years later- COMPLETE coincidence…).  I bet resurrected rabbit tastes better than chicken. Also, did I mention the side effect of God Dust on male rabbits? It causes them to lay eggs… How? Who knows? Magic? So it is written.

Anyway, back to my earlier point- if you don’t like the birth control and don’t want to end up as the parent of a unique and special snowflake, be gay. Otherwise, shut the hell up- whiny ass bitches.

 

 

 

 

 

2012
03/30
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I’m not Unreliable; You Need to Live Longer

So, it’s been awhile hasn’t it- Not much has changed, and I decided to take a little vacation. You know, since your universe is doing so well on it’s own (ha-hahaha-ha), I decided to go form life in another one. Think of yourselves as a practice round. Anyway, I got a question from a fan (more like stalker) that’s what I call those crazy damned fundies that go on and on and on and on about me. I gave you a life (sort of)… I mean I sort of formed the universe and then you popped up in it, so think of it as life by proxy. Now, what was I saying- oh I gave you a life so go fucking live it and get your heads out of the sand… Holy shit.

Anyway, the question was: what do I think about atheists saying I’m wishy-washy and change my mind a lot and am ‘unreliable’ and blah, blah, blah, blah…?

I’m not unreliable (well, maybe I am), but TIME is really unreliable. I mean I’ve been gone for what? A year, 10 months? That’s YOUR time- my time that’s about a week, an hour, something like that. Who knows?  Blame it on the extra-dimensional temporal shift, or the fact that father time is old and senile… Seriously old AND seriously senile. Yesterday, he peed in my closet, because “any closet can be a water closet.” Who says water closet anymore? See what I mean? So, sometimes, time gets a little crazy here- runs fast, runs slow, runs in between.

So, I guess you want to read about my ‘unreliability.’ Well, maybe if you would hurry up and evolve a longer life span, I wouldn’t be so unreliable. Think about it for a minute- If you only live 75 years- a year seems like along time BUT if you live a thousand years, well, by me (cause I’m God, so if I say by God, I’d be referring to myself in the third person, and that’s just weird), so if you live a thousand years, well, a year doesn’t seem so long now does it? Atheists can’t pin this shit on me; it’s your own damned faults. And you whiny little fundie nutjobs, I know you’ve been wondering the same thing- so don’t pin it all on the unbelievers. I know your hearts, but only because you warmongering imbeciles like to rip them out of each others chests- anyway, enough with the rambling.

Actually, you know when a year seems like a long time? When Thor gets to practicing with his hammer… Would you believe he made a xylophone that he can use his hammer on? Oh yeah, expect a RAINY season on earth. The ‘would you believe’ in that last sentence was completely rhetorical, because I’m the Great Yahweh and, by me, I wrote it- so roughly half you idiots will believe it.

Well, Jesus and I, we have to go harvest some Olympian Gold Godja Weed.  Maybe, my gay, hippie son has it all figured out. He HAS been hanging out with Athena lately, but I’d barely count her as female… Don’t kill each other before we have a chance for another lovely chat.

Signed,

The HIGHEST Power (gotta love the Godja)

2012
03/15
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To Rapture or Not to Rapture

Hello Followers!

Well, now that all your self-inflicted natural disasters and that “rapture” are out of the way, we can get on with our regularly scheduled FAQ.

Actually, first a few words about the “rapture.” Really? REALLY? Guess what, I’m not showing up in October either. What do you think of that? Nothing against you guys, but seriously, I want to see where this grand experiment will go without really intervening. It’s the scientist in me.

So, now I guess it’s time to answer another question I got through my godline some time ago. And it just happens to be about the rapture- will or has there been one, as in rapture?

Well, let me clue the dumbasses among you in- N-O, NO. There will be no rapture. Why? For one I, Jehovah, want you “good Christians” hanging around less than your neighbors do. You’re a bunch of certifiable card-carrying wing nuts.  I only tolerate your stupidity, because I like to watch all the drama. For two, see the grand experiment listed above.

First, do you really think we want you tasteless morons building gold streets here in Godland? Where the hell do you think we live Munchkinland?!  Then, the harps, the damned harps you want to bring- Really? In fact, I’ll let Apollo- who’s joined me for an afternoon cocktail weigh in on the idea of “good Christians” and their harps.

He says, and I quote, “They can take their harps and stuff them up their ignorant little mortal…” We don’t need to finish his quote, however, he did mention skinning you bunch of  “walking meat sticks alive with his bare fingernails and then plucking you’re your eyes and feeding them to a band of wild hounds, while melting your freshly bescumbered (look it up, lazybones) muscle tissue using a very hot brand.” Suffice it to say he prefers the lyre. Also, you “good christians” might want to lay low, I think he’s on his way down there. It sort of breaks our pact, but really, I dislike your stupidity enough to overlook it this time.

I would also like to mention, you bunch of holier-than-thou bible-thumping sideshow freaks really, really get on my nerves.  It’s really a testament to my new “soft love” approach that I don’t take the entire class of overly judgmental, self-centered, self-aggrandizing, douchemongers and send the angel of death on an urban safari hunt for the idiots. Really? After all the hate and lies about me you spew and you think I would want you here? Asshats, what do you think I am? Stupid? I used to think you guys had reading comprehension issues, now, I’m convinced you’re really just scum.

Do you think I ignore your idiocy unless your on your little knees praying or in your little church (BIG church) fleecing your followers for whatever you can get out of them, by giving them some false sense of security? You morons think you can buy your way to me? Sorry, I’m not a gigolo (nothing against the hard working gigolos of earth- hell, at least their providing a real service). In truthfulness, I do ignore you “good Christians” most of the time- You give me migraines and we don’t have headache medicine here- Unless you call that liquefied slime bomb Hera calls a healing salve, medicine, which most of us do not.

You freaks give Jesus and I a bad name- quite frankly, when I asked Jesus about a rapture, he went into an incoherent hissy fit and shredded his pink sequin scarf in anger, all the time screaming something about how could John do this to him. He always told him to stay away from the Acid- He’ll be fine in a month or two earth time.

I should rip your filthy souls out of your silly little bodies and feed them to my pet Gryphons or Little Luci- Little Luci likes to eat souls. The problem about sharing souls with Little Luci, though, is it makes Hades jealous. I just don’t like Hades hanging around- he has really, REALLY bad breath.

I would also like to add Godland doesn’t really have enough air to keep your egos inflated. Seriously, what would you do when your ego deflated and had to come down off that high horse your sitting on and realized you can’t afford that mansion I built for you? Aren’t you the ones who said I help those who help themselves? Nothing in life, or death is free. *wink wink*

 

 

 

 

2011
06/03
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