I’ve had to leave the salutation of this postcard blank, as I wasn’t sure if I should call you Grammatical Cretins, Social Cretins or perhaps Moloch, Bringer of Unholy Puns.
I must thank Holy Taco for compiling so many of your signs in one place and admit to them that their intertubessite isn’t normally My cup of tea. The Holy Libido isn’t really what it used to be. However, that’s for Me and My therapist to discuss and really doesn’t pertain to this postcard.
When I saw these signs, I knew I was going to have to do something I didn’t want to do – something I am, quite frankly, pretty rusty at, but a deity’s got to do what a deity’s got to do. So, for the first time since I was a young up-and-comer stomping the Otherites and the Differtites, I’m going to lay down a few Commandments.
Commandment #1: Verily I say unto you, Megan’s law no longer pertains to My boys.
Commandment #3: Thou shalt not partake of the spotted mushrooms… unless thou shalt share thy stash with Gawd.
Commandment #4: Thou shalt not be bitter about not getting a pony lo those many years ago.
Commandment #5: Thou shalt disregard all that stuff I said about Onan. Yea, worry not about blindness and hirsute palms.
Commandment #6: Thou shalt no longer be tax-exempt.
Commandment #7: Verily, I can’t believe I have to say this, but – Thou shalt not stick your thingy in your mother’s hoo-ha. For any reason.
Commandment #8: Whosoever punneth shall be punithed by a good, old-fashioned stoning. Deities excluded.
Commandment #9: Sheesh! Thou shalt see a therapist and quit fantasizing about lynchings.
Commandment #10: Ditto.
Extra, free of Charge Commandment: Thou shalt not be a creepy deity stalker.
Thus spake Me.
Wish You Were Here,