... eating yoghurt with chunks in it. I don't care if it's 'real fruit', it's still... ew.
March 31, 2009
March 27, 2009
Thou shalt not meander down the sidewalk, shoulder-to-shoulder with thy friends, oblivious to the goings-on around thee as thou gossipest about nothing of eternal nor mortal importance, spreading thouselves out across the breadth of the walkway so that thou blockst the path of all who art trying to pass you by, and then shoot people dirty looks when they ask thee to excuse them that they may continue on their journey.
March 25, 2009
I think maybe I've given some of you the wrong impression with the way I talk about Moses on this blog. The Missus pointed out to me that perhaps I've come across as a bit cruel, and she asked me to make a clarification.
While it's true that I have a difficult relationship with Moses, mostly because how can I possibly be expected to understand somebody who turns up the volume every time Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind" comes on?, he is still one of my children. Even though he's fairly stupid and annoying and he doesn't comb his beard very stylishly, I still Created him and gave him Life.
Therefore, I am contractually obligated to love him just like I love everybody else. It's one of those laws of the Universe that I can't break. No matter how much I want to.
Oh, and how I want to.
Once every year we have to take inventory of Heaven. I give everybody a specific assignment, but it still takes days to do. Someone has to count the blue pens, someone else has to count the green pens, someone else has to count the purple pens. Then there has to be someone to count all the golden fields and someone to count the public milkshake dispensers and someone to count all the Swedes. The list goes on and on.
It's tedious and boring, so my assignment is always to try to make it more fun for everybody. This year I decided that instead of bringing donuts to make it more fun, the best way would be to stand on my throne in the middle of Heaven with a bullhorn and go through my entire stand-up comedy routine over and over and over again in an endless loop until everybody was finished counting.
The bad news is, my stand-up is only about six minutes long, which means I performed the same routine 642 times over the past four days. With that many repeat performances, I feel like my act has started to get a little stale. So I need some new jokes. Any suggestions?
The good news is, this year was the fastest we've ever finished inventory in the history of Time itself! I must have been really motivational! In fact, almost everybody asked me to stop at some point, probably because they were laughing too hard to get their work done.
Posted by God at Wednesday, March 25, 2009
March 24, 2009
... downloading 'The Best of Engelbert Humperdinck' from iTunes.
March 23, 2009
- Hulk Hogan
- Compilation DVDs
- Transformers: Robots in Disguise
- Guitar picks
- Nelson Mandela
- Safety scissors
- 3-D movies
March 20, 2009
Thou shalt not wrap a kitchen towel around thy head and flutter about thy house naked singing "Nonny Nonny Nonny Nonny Nonny Nonny Noo!"
March 17, 2009
Most of you have heard the legend that Saint Patrick banished all the snakes from Ireland. This is false. Very false.
In fact, Patty is completely terrified of snakes. We don't have snakes up here in Heaven, but every year on Saint Patrick's Day, I have Satan send some up so Pete and I can hide them all over Patty's office. It's his own fault - he could have nipped that rumor in the bud while he was still alive, but he thought the whole Conquerer of Evil Snakes angle made him seem fearúil.
It's hilarious! He knows it's coming, because we do it every year, but it still totally freaks him out! Sometimes he tries to avoid it by calling in to take a personal day, but I make him come in anyway. Sure, maybe it's abusing power, but what's the use of being God if you can't force anyone to squeal like a scared little girl for your own entertainment?
... Forgetting to wear green on Saint Patrick's Day.
I'm going to give each and every one of you that forget a great big cosmic pinch!
March 16, 2009
You know, as much as I love the Missus, sometimes I just don't understand her. For example, I will never understand why she likes cats. For another example, I will never understand why she is so opposed to me having a motorcycle.
I mean, seriously. She knows I can't get hurt. It's not like there are any motorcycle gangs for me to get caught up in. And I told her if she had a problem with the exhaust I could make it spit out anything - I'd be willing to drive a motorcycle that expelled baby laughter instead of carbon monoxide. But she keeps saying no, just because she doesn't like "the idea of a motorcycle."
Huh?! What the crap does that even mean?!
Posted by God at Monday, March 16, 2009
March 13, 2009
Thou shalt not attempt to justify stuffing thyself with an entire dish of extra creamy macaroni and cheese, two and a half pounds of Chocolate Drizzle S'mores bundt cake and a can of Diet Coke in one sitting as a "momentary lapse in judgement" because "everyone cheats a little at Weight Watchers."
March 12, 2009
When Rodney Dangerfield got to Heaven, I asked him to come into the office for a little chat. "Rodney," I said, "I think you and I have something in common."
"What's that, God?" he asked.
"Just like me, you know what it's like to have people disrespect you," I said.
"..." he said.
"You know, 'I get no respect!'" I said.
"You do get that that was a joke, right? People are really quite fond of me." he said.
"Get out of my office, Rodney," I said.
Sometimes I think people forget that they're supposed to both love me and fear me. Most of you have a pretty good grasp on the love part, but you're lacking in the fear department.
I blame Moses. He had this grand idea years and years ago that it would be great PR for me to try to appear more lovable. He said there are only two ways it can go for a guy who has a crazy long beard that waches you when you sleep - you can either be a creepy serial killer-slash-stalker or you can be Santa Claus. So we went with Santa Claus.
And it worked for a while, but now I think I'd really like to lean more on the "fear" angle.
March 11, 2009
You know the worst part about being Me? Getting blamed for every bad thing that ever happens. Every time there's some sort of tragedy, people ask, "How could God let this happen?" or "Where was God during all of this?"
Every time some crazy person starts shooting people or a moron invents chocolate Skittles or Martha Stewart's dog blows up, everyone automatically assumes it's somehow my fault. You know what? I feel really badly when those things happen. I really do. And sure, I could have stopped it, but then you guys wouldn't learn anything.
Of course, I get no credit when I do prevent some kind of disaster. Did you hear about that rich guy who built a nuclear submarine from scratch in his toolshed, took it out to Lake Michigan and blew up half of Chicago a few months ago? Of course you didn't, because I STOPPED IT FROM HAPPENING. What about that group of skydivers in Seville last week who got all tangled up in each others' parachutes and all six of them plummeted to their deaths? Yup, I stopped that, too.
But I can't stop everything. You guys need to learn that your choices and your actions have consequences, and how can you if I keep bad things from ever happening to you? No, no, you'd prefer if I just wrapped the world in some kind of cosmic bubble wrap so you could fall off of buildings and drunkenly agree to let your friends punch you in the face and never get any boo-boos.
Sorry, guys, that's just not the way it works. So instead of expecting me to take the reigns and protect you from everything bad, why don't you guys just stop making stupid decisions? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a South American bridge collapse to prevent.
Posted by God at Wednesday, March 11, 2009
March 10, 2009
... wasting office supplies by twisting a whole box of paper clips into little people and buildings to make an imaginary village so you can pretend you're a king.
March 9, 2009
Sometimes I wonder if Tom Hanks is actually Me.
Posted by God at Monday, March 09, 2009
March 8, 2009
Do you ever just find yourself letting your mind go loose until you're thinking crazy things? You're just staring into space, maybe there's some funky background music or you just saw a confusing movie, so your train of thought is taking off from the KooKoo Station anyway. Does that ever happen to you?
Posted by God at Sunday, March 08, 2009
March 6, 2009
I dropped a Skittle yesterday. I think it might still be in my beard.
Thou shalt not (this is my 100th post!) tempt thy friends who art heavy with drink (can you believe it? 100 is a lot!) to corner the racoon that ist hiding in thy attic (it's making me feel all nostalgic, you know?) and taunt it with thy mop (that's it, free blessings for everyone! I'm in a good mood) until it attacks thy drunken friend in the face and givest him rabies. (100!)
Posted by God at Friday, March 06, 2009
March 5, 2009
Sometimes Bandit and I like to play Marco Polo. Only we have to modify it slightly, because Bandit doesn't speak Human. So when we play, instead of me shouting 'Marco!' and Bandit answering 'Polo!', it goes a little something like this:
I say, "Bandit!"
Bandit says, "Bark!"
I say, "Where are you?"
Bandit says, "Bark!"
I say, "...No, seriously. Where are you? I want to go play frisbee."
It's such a fun game!
You know, every year during Lent I get a little choked up with pride for all of you who choose to worship me by giving up things you love. What an amazing demonstration it is. Really, it means a lot. I know I'm supposed to just be God because that's my job, but it's nice to feel appreciated, and Lent is the time of year when I feel most appreciated. You're doing something that's not easy for you, just because you love and/or fear me. Thank you.
Seriously, if somebody asked me to give up Toaster Strudels for forty days I'd laugh in their face. There's just NO WAY that would happen. Totally not worth it.
Posted by God at Thursday, March 05, 2009
March 4, 2009
I don't like to write with black pens. They just make me feel sad. Black ink is so dark and depressing. It's, like, "Hey, look at me! I'm all black and inky." It just puts me in a foul mood.
I only use brightly colored pens. Green pens, purple pens, blue pens, glow-in-the-dark pens, glitter pens... In fact, there is only one black pen in all of Heaven, and I only use it to sign smiting orders.
March 3, 2009
"Father in Heaven: Please hear my prayers that Mom won't find out my kitty peed on her bed because she'll get mad. Amen."
"Dear God: Please bless this oatmeal that it doesn't taste gross. Amen."
"Heavenly Father: Hi, how are you? I'm good. Today at school I saw a really cool bug and I squished it so it could go to Heaven and you could see it. You're welcome. Amen. Good night."
"Dear God: Please bless my mom and dad don't have sex and make another little brother, because I already got one and he just cries a lot. Amen."
"Dear Heavenly Father: Tell Jesus I said hi. Amen."
Posted by God at Tuesday, March 03, 2009