Guest Blogger: The Pete Edition

Sometimes I get busy. And as much as I love writing this blog, it's not exactly my top priority. It falls somewhere inbetween keeping the Earth from barreling headlong into the sun and cleaning out the lint trap in the dryer. When I have a lot of things on my plate, it tends to fall by the wayside.

So I've come up with a great solution! I'm going to let some of my friends (and Moses) serve as guest bloggers from time to time! First up: My best friend, Saint Peter.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand GO!

Why I Don't Blog
by Saint Peter

I used to have a blog. I updated it... oh, maybe a dozen times.

It got old.

I've never really been much for words. I'm more of a man of action.

I mean, I didn't exactly talk Malchus' ear off. You know?

You know.

Even when I wrote those epistles, I had to have somebody else put it all down for me while I gave them a rough idea of what I wanted it to say. They turned out alright.

God, on the other hand, is full of words.

Lots of big, loud, exaggerated words.

Which makes a blog the perfect thing for him. But not so much for me. Occasional guest-blogger is more than enough for me.

I can't even think of a good way to end this thing.

You Wouldn't Want To Miss This One!

As you know, I like to take online personality quizzes when I'm bored. I just took one that told me what actor would play me if they made a movie about me. And it was so fun that I called Pete over at the Pearlies so he could take it, too. Then we had Satan and Moses try.

Let me tell you, this would be an awesome movie. In fact, Pete and I are going to start working on a screenplay tonight. We think it will be an action/comedy/drama. We'll have to take a bit of creative license, though, because truthfully there aren't a whole lot of things blowing up in slow motion in Heaven.

So, if you were going to see a movie about modern-day Heaven, this is what you would see:

My result:

Pete's result:



Satan's result:



Moses' result:

I'm Very Right-Brained. Because I'm Always Right.

One of my *ahem* loyal *cough* disciples sent me this email the other day.

God -

Hey what's up? Thanks for that favor the other night. You know what I mean. I was just wondering why you don't blog so much anymore? I know you're busy keeping everything alive & running heaven & hangingout with St. Pete. But you used to blog every day. And when are you going to finish the Bible 2 on twitter? Are you going to fix your new website? I mean it'd be one thing if you weren't blogging because you were fixing world hunger or aids or soemthing, but it seems like you're just being lazy. Please don't send me to hell! I just miss your blog. I need more of your word so I can go to heaven and we can play a nice game of badminton together someday.

Oh and I'm planning on doing a little sinning this weekend. Hope that's ok.

I only have one thing to say about this email: Hmmmpf.

Wait, hold on. I just thought of a bunch of other things to say.

I've never been that great on follow-through. The Missus says I'm too easily distracted. I'll be in the middle of a project and suddenly get a great idea for a new project, and forget to finish the first. Of course, when I'm working on the second one I'll get a brilliant flash of inspiration for a third, and so on and so on. It drives her nuts, because she's incredibly anal organized.

Pete says the Missus and I are so different that way because I'm right-brained. That made me laugh. I couldn't wait to go home and tell her that Pete says she's wrong-brained, but then he said it was something about the brain hemispheres and cortex and all this stuff I vaguely remember coming up with from back when I created Life so many thousands of years ago.

But Pete's right. I'm very creative. In fact, I'm Creative. I'm the ultimate Creative being. So because I spend so much time and energy Creating things, I don't have a lot of time and energy to sit around and make sure those things I created are working efficiently. I mean, just look at your digestive system. Those things are nothing like I originally imagined. I was going to Create something sooo much better, but then I had this crazy idea to give you all wings and dropped your intestines to work on that instead. Which, by the way, ended up not panning out, anyway.

Look, I know you guys really need this blog. Trust me. I know how much you need it more than you know you need it. So I'm going to try really hard to focus on updating it more often. And I already asked Pete to help me work out the problems with the other website. And.... what was the other thing?... Oh, yeah. The sequel to the Bible. Um..... I'm not making any promises on that one.

I'd better tell Satan to brush up on his badminton game. The guy who sent that email is going to need somebody to play against when he gets Down Under.

I'm Sorry You Feel That Way

Today sucks.

First, I slept in. Luckily I was able to miracle Time so that I still got to work on time, but it threw me off for the rest of the day.

Second, there's a big debate going on in Heaven right now and my two best friends are on opposite sides of it. It seems some people think the rule about pets and animals having their own Heavens needs to be changed, and that we should all get to live in the same Heaven. Pete's on the side that says the rule is there for a reason and shouldn't change, but Bandit thinks everyone should get to live together. I understand where they both are coming from, but when it all comes down to it I'm going to have to side with one of them. And that's just not cool.

Third, a lot of people are using the Animal Heavens debate to bring up the cat issue. Which means that a lot of people are getting mad at me for telling the truth about cats. Which is that they're vile. And even though I tell these people that it's okay if they like cats, and that I won't keep them out of Heaven for it, they still seem to think it's important that I like cats, too.

Okay, look. I understand how you get angry when you feel like I'm not on your side about something. But it's impossible for me to please everybody all the time. That's one of the hardest things about my job - having to do what's right even when it means people get mad at me. So while I know some of you are still going to get mad at me over the whole cat thing, and that some of you will be mad over whatever we end up deciding about the Animal Heavens, just know that I'm doing the best I can. Try not to be so vicious, mmkay?

So it feels like the whole Universe is fighting right now. Things are getting very tense. Let's all find something we can unite in. Post your suggestions for your favorite Universal Truth That Everyone Can Agree To.

Don't Be Sore Losers

Pete, Gabriel and I play in Heaven's 3-on-3 basketball league. We got to pick our own team name, so obviously we're called The Best Team in the League. True, it's a long name, and it was a little hard to fit when we were writing it on our league t-shirts with sharpies, but at least it's accurate.

Plus, it's just really cool when you're just out getting some pizza with your boys and you overhear someone at the next table talking about how their team is going up against The Best Team in the League.

Yesterday we played The Turkeys: Benjamin Franklin, Henry IV, and a really sweet guy named Carl. WE KILLED THEM. Final score: 217 - 6. But while Pete, Gabe and I were doing our victory dance, Ben and Hank started grumbling about how "games against God's team shouldn't count in the bracket" and nonsense like that. They don't think it's "fair" for me to "play basketball" because "I control the Universe."

Pfft. Please. There's no need to be such a sourpuss about it. I mean, just because I'm God and I have Godly Powers and never miss a shot doesn't mean I shouldn't be allowed to play just like anybody else. I just have certain natural abilities. Nobody ever called Michael Jordan a cheater just because he's so good.

I Want My MTV!

I've come up with a great idea. Seriously. Probably the best idea I've had since gravity (you don't even want to KNOW what a mess things were before that).

You know how I've been working on my songwriting? Well, I'm going to make a music video. See, there's this thing I found called the You Tube, where anybody who wants to can make a video and put it on the interweb for other people to see. Pete says there's even a way I can put a video right here on this blog, but he's been known to exaggerate.

So now all I have to do is shoot the video and have Pete show me how to put it on the You Tube. Oh, and I have to finish writing a song. See, I have a kind of a pattern when it comes to my music. I've never written a whole, complete song.

I don't know if it's because I'm just afraid of how awesome they will be or what, but I always get stuck partway through the songwriting process. It gets to a point where I just don't know how to finish it. Usually it's right after I come up with the title. Then I'm completely stumped.

I Keep Telling You, I Have A Great Sense Of Humor

I love jokes. Sometimes Pete and I will just sit and tell jokes back and forth and back and forth all day long. Pete thinks most of my jokes are lame, but I say as long as I think they're funny, that's all that matters. As the master and commander of the Universe, I think it's one of my privileges to set the standard for what's funny and what isn't. These are funny:

What is the beekeeping pirate's favorite place to eat? Arrrrrbees!

A guy walked into a bar and said, "Ouch!"

What's red and smells like blue paint? Red paint.

What's black and white and black and white and black and white and black and white? A nun falling down the stairs.

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.

There are only 10 types of people in the world. Those who understand binary, and those who don't.

What do you call a guy who never farts in public? A private tutor.

Why are there so many Smiths in the phone book? They all have phones.

What did Batman say to Robin before they got in the car? Robin, get in the car.

What did the fish say when it ran into the cement wall? "Damn!" What did the wall say back? "DumBass."

Where does the general keep his armies? In his sleevies.

What do you call a parrot wearing a raincoat? Polly Unsaturated.

Why does a chicken coop only have two doors? Because if it had four doors, it would be a sedan.

A grasshopper walked into a bar. The bartender said, "Hey, we have a drink named after you." The grasshopper said, "You have a drink named Bob?"

Why did the monkeys refuse to join in the jungle poker match? There were too many cheetahs.


This is not:

My dog Minton ate two shuttlecocks yesterday. Bad Minton.

Sorry, ryanmer, but any time I have to use Wikipedia to help me understand a joke, it's officially not funny.


Thanks to @BeautiCreams, @scottspjut, @ryanmer, @BigBags and @txnewsprincess for their contributions. Feel free to leave more in the comments!

Do-hay Ou-yay Understand-hay?

Pete and I like to talk to each other in a super secret language we made up so that no one else can understand what we're saying. Sometimes we like to pretend that we're spies and we have to use the secret language to deliver intel about secret missions. And sometimes we just use it to say mean things about Moses without him knowing.

When I got to work today there was a note from Pete in my inbox that said:

Od-gay ~ Euss-gay at-whay? Oses-may ucks-say. Ahahaha-hay! Ove-lay, Ete-pay.

I'm Not Doing It, I Swear!

Thursday is Poker Night.  Pete always shows, and then I usually invite a few guys from all over Heaven, and while they all think it's a big honor to be asked, nobody ever comes twice.  In fact, it's becoming increasingly difficult to get people to play, even though I promise to try really hard to not know what's in everybody's hand.

But sometimes it seems like even when I manage to switch off the omniscience, some sort of mystical magical force wants me to be dealt really good hands.  I mean, really good.  And it must be a truly magical force, because even I don't know how to stop it from making me win.  I don't know what that the force is, really.  Maybe it's The Force, like on Star Wars.

Saint Patrick Hates Saint Patrick's Day

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?

Little Known Fact

Most of you know that the Pearlies are not actually made out of pearls. But I bet you didn't know that there is a teeny tiny inscription on the gate that says, "If you can read this sign, you're standing too close!" And that if you stand there trying to read it, Pete will sneak up behind you and give you a wet willie.

New Year's Resolutions!

This morning I went around and asked everybody to write down one or two of their New Year's Resolutions so I could post them on my blog. Here's what I got.

Pete says:

In 2009 I resolve to master the art of juggling fire. No, chainsaws. NO, chainsaws on fire.

Satan says:

In 2009 I resolve to get our damn towel warmers back.  And to never loan any of my sporting equipment to God again.

Moses says:

In 2009 I resolve to stop being such a moron.

And finally, in 2009 I, God, resolve to be a bit more diligent in making sure I'm sending the right blessings to the right people even when they have shockingly similar names.  Sorry, Joan and John Cusack!  It won't happen again!

Does Everybody Have Their Buddy?

This past weekend was one of our highly successful Visitor's Weekends. It's kind of like a foreign exchange program - every now and then we have a weekend where we welcome souls from the other Heavens or Hell here, and a few of us get to go visit out there. Everyone gets assigned a buddy when they visit to be their kind of personal tour guide, but we do a lot of stuff together as a group. Guaranteed good times for all.

Well, this weekend we took a trip to the Pearlies so all of our visitors could meet Pete. He loves it when we have visitors so he can show them how good he is at juggling. Anyway, as we were getting ready to leave I asked if everybody had their buddy.

Turns out, somebody had lost track of their buddy (three guesses who). We found him not far away, making cloud angels. Which was a little ironic, because he got sent to Hell for being an aethiest. But he was a nice guy, and it really seemed like he enjoyed his weekend in Heaven, and that makes me glad. I almost feel bad that I had to send him back down. Almost.

I'm Telling You, I'm Easy!

This morning I asked Pete if he had finished all of his Christmas shopping yet. Almost, he said. I offered to help him, but he said no because the only person left on his list was me. Then he said that he was having a really hard time coming up with a good present idea for me.

What is he talking about? I'm the easiest person to shop for in the Universe! Pete says there's a lot of pressure involved in buying a present for God, because if I don't like it you're kinda screwed. Whatever, man. Pete's my best friend, and it hurts that he thinks I'm that shallow.

Name one time someone offered me a gift and I didn't like it and things turned out badly for that person. Except Cain, because that guy had it coming. Seriously. Fruit? What kind of offering is fruit? 'Oh, here, thanks for being such an awesome God. Have a mango.' Geez.

Prankalicious!

Hey, help me out. Pete and I need ideas for a really good prank we can play on Moses.

We used to just steal prank ideas from "The Office" because Moses never watched the show. I'll tell you what - when he opened his closet and saw his precious staff floating in a Jell-O mold, I nearly peed my robe I laughed so hard. His face! Priceless!

And the day Pete showed up dressed just like Moses, mimicking his every move, was probably the third-greatest day of my life. No, fourth. No, third. Pete practiced for a week to get all of Moses' little mannerisms right, and when he started telling this story about floating down a river in a basket as a child I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

But then somebody stupidly mentioned "The Office" when Moses was within earshot, so he figured out our game. Now we need something really good, that he'll never see coming. If we can't think of anything really good, maybe I'll revisit the burning bush joke. He still hasn't figured that one out.

Boo-Yah!

I totally just kicked Saint Peter's ass in a little driveway one-on-one. I mean, seriously creamed him. I think there may still be a few pieces of his face smeared up and down the court.

Take that, Pete! Who's the old man now? You think just because you beat me at Guitar Hero you have what it takes to challenge me on the basketball court? You think that's enough to take me on in a real man's game?

Who's your daddy, Pete?! WHO'S YOUR DADDY?!!

That's right. I'm your daddy. And don't forget - you totally owe me a milkshake.

Patience Is a Virtue

Pete and I were hanging out over by the Pearly Gates the other day when this old guy showed up wanting to get into Heaven. He stood there for about .12 seconds then he walked right up and tried to open the gate himself.

Pete and I watched the guy struggle with the lock for a minute, then I said, "Hey, geezer, what's your hurry?" He gave me some sob story about how he was trying to get to his wife because she'd been waiting for him in Heaven for years and how he missed her so much and blah, blah, blah.

When he was finally done with his story, Pete and I went back to our game of backgammon. The old guy asked if we were ever going to let him in. "Pete's on his break," I told him. Then the old guy understood. Turns out, he was a union man himself, back on Earth.