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GodsWeblog
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Name: God
Country: Ecuador
Metro: Quito
Interests: Creating everything, Golf, smighting the wicked, loving, hating, standing, sex w/ athena (only the HOTTEST GODDESS EVER!!! <3), Fits of jealous rage, Boreaß, coming to earth in the form of homeless people, Me, Ignoring prayers, impregnating virgins, striking innocent park rangers and golfers with lightning, Sub Peonies, Leftover Crack, the Raincoats, Tenacious D, Che Guevara, Weed, etc.
Expertise: Everything
○X7,\L½äñ⌡♂■xêƒÄ§♥Ä☻0╪˜╕:!!!!!!
Occupation: Executive
Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message me
Member Since:
7/5/2005
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| Do you know what the most painful thing in the world is? Outliving your children. It's worst for me, for I am eternal. I sit down at my holy card table, realizing this. I've got Freddy Mercury; paint-on vinyl pants, asinine mustache and all, directly in front of me. Malcolm X is to my right, still raging on (In his heaven, there's still racism. Ya' know, it gives him something to do. We don't want him questioning me and all!). To my left was the son of ME, wearing that crazy robe get-up, (Goddamn kids these days). Me and the boys were just in the middle of a game of poker, and I was placing some ridiculous bets, I had like 20 U.S. presidents' souls on the table, but I'm omniscient, so uh.. yeah... you get the idea. The boys bring up Adolf Hitler, and his getting into heaven and all. Jesus has been totally ripping on me for that, and I began to threaten him, but then I remembered the whole "sending him to earth and killing him" thing. I still get shit for that too. Anyways, with my 20 presidential souls, I was going abso-fucking-lutely crazy with these bets. Problem is, I get carried away with my omniscience and, well, Malcolm decided to call my bet. He couldn't actually match my bet, but he was really confident. Well, I ended up winning out over his pair of 3s with my pair of 4s. Now, lacking the appropriate "soulage", Malcolm had to reimburse me somehow. "Christ?" I said. "Yes?" said Christ. "Let me see your crown of thorns for a second..."
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| So I was shooting dope the other day when I saw a copy of the bible under my bed. I decided to read it, and I quickly realized that I really haven't been smiting people as much as I used to. I've decided that it would be a good idea to get back back to my old hobbys and start smiting man again. I'll start with the young and defenseless. They cry too much. It pisses me off. Plus, they're always praying that their mom won't yell at them for eating that cookie that was left on the counter. Fuck that. Fat fucks, get control of your fucking turkeys necks. Alright, I'm done. Later.
One love,
God Fucking Christ | | |
| So I was talking on my cell to my old college roommate, Buddha, and he's like, "Kegger over at Satan's!" and I'm Like, "Hell's yeah! I'll be right----wait, I gotta check the damn prayer box..." then I hung up on his fat ass and stomped my royal rightousness on over to the prayer box. I reached my Holy Hand down inside and pulled out a picker; Samuel Watson of Michigan prays; "Please make my house nicer." I got out my "Peeping Tom" brand binoculars and took a Godly-Gander at his little hole in the wall. Hot damn, what a shit hole. It's like a commode made of rotten wood. I was about to fix it AAAAAALL up when I had an idea of what would look SO MUCH cooler. Instead of fixing HIS house, I used my lightning to blow up all the SURROUNDING houses. Well, I got a kegger to get to now, don't commit any sins while I'm gone!!!
One Love, The fuckin' king of kings, GOD | | |
| My Holiness was over-eating this morning, when I looked in my human's
prayers box, and I took a godly gander at them, and I realized
what whiney little shits you guys are! Nine-year-old Meagan Talley of
Minnesota prays: "Please make me not fat.". You'd think that with
managing the whole damn universe an' all, even stupid kids would know
I got more problems then fat kid's love-handles. So I decided that in
the night, I would descend from the heavens & infuse my holy lard
into her chubby little likeness. "She will be engorged in the body of
Christ. Like Mary, but with fat instead of spooge." Corinthians
16:12,769,879. If you think you can pray better 'en her fat ass, send
your prayers to "the_email_account_of_god@hotmail.com"
Peace out. May I be with you.
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