Dear Bobby Jindal…

 

Louisiana Governor’s Mansion

Dear Bobby,

  I feel a little embarrassed that it’s taken me 14 years to answer your postcard, but, you know… I’ve been on vacation.  I see here that you wanted Me to cast a demon out of your friend and, if I could spare the time, perhaps do something about her cancer.  Oops – Dea Culpa for taking so long – but it’s probably for the best.  I did a little checking because I felt a scootch guilty, and it turns out there was no demon after all.  Yeah, and her cancer ended up going into remission, so all’s well that ends well, right?  Of course, it took her years of therapy before she’d let anyone touch her after that.  But I’m sure she feels it’s a small price to pay to keep her head from spinning and from making gallons of pea soup at socially inopportune times.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear Tom Delay…

C/O Travis County, TX District Court Grand Jury

Dear Tom,

  As anyone who pays attention has noticed by now, I’m on vacation and don’t really answer the postcards that people have been sending me for as long as I remember.  However, since My slacker son recently got a job, I thought I’d have a go at answering one of yours.

  It seems to Me that making statements and then sending Me postcards asking to make the statements true is a little ass-backwards.  In fact, I’ve never really understood you and the other hooligans you run around with.  You make what are obviously meant to be derogatory comments about My boy’s new boss in one breath and the next you’re telling people you’re My new apprentice or something.  Keep it up and the only training you’ll get from me is how to take a boot up the keister.

  Of course, I’ve often wondered if this sort of thing is all My boy’s fault.  In one of His rebellious phases He went out and got piercings and, (don’t ask me how), He ended up releasing a bunch of brain-eating zombies.  It’s just the sort of thing that’s always happened around Him.  In fact, He once infected a herd of something or other with demons.  But I digress.  The point of this, which has become a bit of a family introspection, was to answer your postcard.  So, here goes.

  I’m on vacation.  Just do what you always do; make something up and pretend it’s real.

Wish You Were Here For That Boot-Keister Lesson,

~Gawd

Dear Anthony Brown…

Orlando, FL

Dear Tony,

  You’re welcome for the idea… I think.  I must admit, the day I got your postcard asking Me for a way to raise a lot of money quickly, I was feeling especially magnanimous and I didn’t read it too closely.  I had just seen a show and was feeling rather euphoric.  I thought you were going to use the cash for something useful; I didn’t realize you were looking to overrun the place with missionaries.  Now, don’t panic.  I’m not going to be a Vishnu-Giver and take it back.  I’m as sick of paying $4.00/gallon for gas as anyone else.  In fact, I’d have invented the thing myself, but I’m on vacation.

  However, I’m going to have to insist that you do something more productive with the money.  First, as I may have mentioned, I’m on vacation and the last thing I want when I’m waiting for a flight is a bunch of Moonies pestering Me; or – Me-forbid – some Mormon kid on Walkabout accosting Me in a disco parking lot.  Second, I’m omniscient, which means I know you expect these missionaries to be hawking My unauthorized biography.  Believe Me, I don’t want to be a Loki about this, but if you cause any more of those books to be released I’ll be forced to communicate through My lawyers, Fire, Brimstone & Wrath, LLC.  Perhaps you’ve seen their ad:  “When FB & W sue your ass, your ass stays sued.”  I hope you get the point.  Oh, and you’re welcome, again… but don’t ask for anything else.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

*Hat Tip to Reversible Panda

Dear Jesus…

C/O Obama for America, Chicago, IL

Dear Son,

  Hi, how are you?  I know I don’t often write, but neither do You… I’m sorry, I promised Myself I wouldn’t say things like that.  I’m writing because I saw that You’ve announced Your support for Obama.  As a father, I can honestly say that I’m glad You finally seem to be buckling down and getting some kind of direction.  Me knows, I wasn’t too happy about the crowd You were hanging around with.  I didn’t want to say anything to You before, because, You know, a father’s got to let their son live their own life; but it always seemed to Me that they were making You take the blame for their actions.  Anyway, I just wanted to let You know that I’m glad you got a job.  Don’t let them underpay you – if you need salary advice You can call.  It wouldn’t hurt You to pick up the phone every now and then, just to say hello, You know?  I’ll be in Cawker City, KS, seeing the largest ball of twine in the universe until Thursday, if you need me.  And call Your mother, she’s been everywhere looking for You.

  Oh, by the way, You tell those Swift Boat Clergymen for Truth guys that if they run that ad calling me an absentee father, I’ll sue their ass.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear “Strange Maps”…

Word Press, The Inter Tubes

Dear Strange,

  It has come to My attention that you are publishing maps of My home.  I realize that it’s something of a tradition in Hollywood to sell maps to/of the stars’ homes, but I must point out that a) I don’t live in Hollywood and b) I am more a reluctant celebrity than otherwise.

  What is more disturbing, (and my lawyers agree), are the number of trespassers shown and the number of street vendors who seem to have set up shop.  I’m not sure who is responsible for disseminating this map or who is responsible for all the vendors, but let Me tell you right now; IT MUST STOP!  While it’s true that I am on vacation in the Caribbean at the moment, and, to be honest, haven’t been home for quite some time, that doesn’t give anyone squatter’s rights.  Obviously, I’ll be having words with my home security firm.  On a somewhat personal note, if I find out who has been posing as Me and selling the snapshots to visitors, they will gain a profound understanding of “Gawd’s Wrath”… also… ummm… does it strike you, too, as a bit tacky and morbid that the line to gawk at the Damned is so much longer than the line to pose with the faux Me?  As for the squatters themselves, consider this a cease, desist and vamoose order.  If I have to unleash the Four Lawyers of the Apocalypse, the suing will be biblical.

Wish You Were Here, (instead of tramping through my garden),

~Gawd

Dear US Joint Chiefs of Staff…

The Pentagon, Washington, DC  20301

Dear Admiral Mullen,

  I’m writing in the hope that you can do Me a little favor.  You see, I’ve been getting these strange postcards from a lot of your troops.  For instance, CWO Rene Llanos with the 101st in Iraq wrote:

“The soldiers who are patrolling and walking the streets are taking along this [Bible], and they’re using it to minister to the local residents.”

  And a Capt. Steve Mickel, a chaplain who believes in proseletyzing on taxpayer time, tells Me that when he can manage to find any live Iraqis they are eager to be converted.  He further assures Me that all of your troops, guns and armored vehicles are not a factor.  Then there are the numerous postcards from Maj. Freddy Welborn begging me to “smite” someone named Hall.  He seems to think I’ll just know who he’s talking about.

  So, I mentioned all that to get to this:  Tell them to stop.  First of all, I’m on vacation and you can be Me-Damned sure I won’t be going anywhere near Iraq until all the shooting stops in a hundred years or so.  On top of that, Iraq is Allah’s turf, and even though he’s on vacation too, none of the people around there seem to realize it.  So every time your troops or those Blackwater fellows do something the locals aren’t keen on they immediately start swamping Allah with postcards and when he doesn’t bother to answer they strap a few pounds of Semtex on and Blooey!  Then, (and this is the bit that chaps My divine butt), Allah comes and complains to Me that they’re all showing up at his hotel wanting him to pimp virgins to them.  It’s like a psychological Rube Goldberg device and guess who’s at the end of it?  Secondly, while I’ve got no reason at all to bother this Hall person, I do have every reason to open up a can of smite ass on troops who are pushing copies of My unauthorized biography.  Believe Me when I sayeth; If this whole thing isn’t a case of running low on toilet paper I shall unleash my lawyers on some ass.  Verily.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear George W. Bush…

1600 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, DC

Dear George,

  I got your most recent batch of postcards; and for future reference, if you use a pencil or pen you can fit more on each card than with a crayon, thus saving yourself a good deal on postage.

  For your father’s sake, (as we were Naval Cadets together), I try to give you the benefit of the doubt most of the time… without reminding you that I’m on vacation.  So I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that you could make a decision and stick to it, even if you haven’t quite grasped the difference between a good decision and a bad one.  But now you’re stretching the bonds of nepotism.  It wasn’t long ago that you were asking me to make everyone believe your little friend Scotty, and now you want me to “make people not believe him“.  George, I hope you won’t take this badly, but I’m on vacation and I hope you’ll take a long one yourself, soon.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear Pastor Hagee…

18755 Stone Oak Pkwy, San Antonio, TX

Dear John,

  Thank you for the postcard warning Me about Joe Lieberman.  However, I’m more concerned about My vacation schedule.  Perhaps you don’t realize this every time you drop Me a line asking for war in the Middle East, but I’ve been planning a trip to Netanya for some time.  I feel certain that quiet walks along the new sea promenade would be less relaxing if I had to fend off Merkava tanks and such.  Actually, since I’m already writing to you, it has come to My attention that you are telling people that I have it in for the Jews.  Now, I don’t want to get into a semantic nor a semetic argument with you, so I’ll just say this:  Stop it, or I’ll sue your ass for libel.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Dear GoodPersonTest…

  As I had a few minutes between shuffleboard and brunch on the Admiral’s Deck, I took your test, as you asked.  I’ve got to say, I’m not too keen on your attitude.  As far as I can tell, when I indicated that I haven’t commited any of these so-called “sins” of yours, you accused me of some sort of schizophrenic lie.  You say that I don’t see Myself as I see Myself, and then you have the nerve to use my unauthorized biography as some sort of measuring stick against me.  If you put me off of my Eggs Hussarde I will not be amused.  So, to paraphrase both W.C. Fields and P.G. Wodehouse, – Go away kid, you’re taking up space which I require for other purposes.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Your Postman is Back on the Job

  After two weeks in bed with vertigo, unable to read without nausea, your neighborhood Gawdless postman can now resume his appointed rounds.  Stay tuned… so to speak.