God came by yesterday to roast some marshmallows. I guess that's not allowed over there. Something about zoning and explosive sugary puffies. Whatever.
God is pretty good to drink beer with, cuz when you run out, it's only a matter of a little finger wiggle and there's plenty again. Pretzels are harder though. I don't get that part.
Me and God like to race hamsters. Hamsters don't, but if it's a slow day you don't mind spending some time coaxing.
Got a birthday present from God. Haven't opened it yet. Whenever I bump the box there's this sort of growling sound inside. God can be pranky, sometimes goes overboard, so I'm waiting until I have my baseball bat to hand to pull the ribbon.
God complains a lot. All too often about the little things. Get off your ass and do something then, right? But no. For some, life isn't right without a chance to sit and bellyache. At least there's beer.
By the way, I may be the mission creep you heard about.
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