God, my favorite drinking buddy — buys every round, never short on cash, full of the funniest, craziest stories you've ever heard. (God's son is a real dick though. Doesn't even sip a beer every now and then. Real pruny personality. Sure, miracles, but that's mostly just showing off.)
If I were God, I really and truly would not be such a conceited dick about it.
God is kind of a dick, you know? I'm glad that my family brought me up to worship the Toad Monster, may Its Warty Self always bring us plenty of flies.
I think I'll become God after I retire. We could use some new blood in there. Also sounds like a fun part-time gig, and not hard at all. I mean — what does God even do these days? Plus, I could send you to hell just like that, any day of the week, for no reason at all. Totally kewl.
God does play golf, but does not cheat. It's too hard to get away with that when so many people are watching. God does play dice with the universe though. Nobody can watch everything out there. And you thought there was a plan? Nurk.
God has taken up target shooting. What can you say? Keep your head down.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? Exorcising again. Feels good.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
