Being God, I get a lot of questions about the order of the universe. Many of these questions come via prayer, but you'd be surprised how many morons have clogged up my e-mail account (god@savethehumans.com) with these idiotic pseudo-scientific hypotheses. Like: why parallel lines never intersect, why bowling balls are heavier than feathers, and why two plus two equals four. Same shit, different day.
But e-mail I can deal with. I just have everything marked "Dear God" automatically deleted before I even open it. Unfortunately, I don't get off so easy when it comes to prayer. As you've probably heard, "no prayer goes unanswered". Jesus, has that one been a thorn in my side. Let's set the record straight. Never in my infinite years did I ever say anything remotely similar to that. But because some stooge on Earth goes blabbing about me answering all these freaking prayers, now I have to listen to this crap. If I don't, then people start doubting my existence, everyone starts screaming "God is Dead", human morality goes on the decline, yada yada yada, and I'm up here twiddling my thumbs.
So thanks to some bastard, I need to answer everyone's prayers. You thought being a Hollywood script reader was tedious? Or reading manuscripts for a romance publisher? Well let me tell you, wait until you hear some of these prayers. Jesus H. Christ. Gimme this, gimme that. If these brain-dead sloths got up off their lazy asses once in a while, then maybe they wouldn't need my help so goddamn much.
Oh sure. Need to master than cello? Well, why practice? Let God do it. Well abra-ca-fucking-dabra. Poof, there's your "I Can Play the Cello" certificate, signed by Yours Truly. That'll be $45 please.
Can I make something clear?
