Do you know why you, James Dobson, your families, your friends, your friends’ families and your acquaintances are often called “God botherers”? I’ll give you three guesses as I take time from My vacation to answer your request that I “piss on Barack Hussein Obama, strike him with lightning and infest his underpants with flesh-eating bacteria.”
Oh, I know that’s not what you wrote on the postcard or said on TV or even to reporters. The thing is, I’m Gawd, and I accidentally turned on the omniscience when I was in the shower the other day. So I know what you fellows really wished for.
Ever since I took that kid, David, under My wing all those years ago, (I used to be a real sucker for an underdog), I’ve been puzzled by something. Why is it that you folks send Me postcards asking for hellfire, damnation, scabes and slow, neverending torture – and then pretend you asked for something much nicer? Perhaps you don’t realize this, but if you just expect Me to tell you what’s right and wrong and don’t use your own conscience, it atrophies. I mean, Jesus Christ… oh, great. Now My boys have showed up and are raiding the hotel mini bar. Can’t a deity vacation in peace?
To quote a number of queens over the years, We are not amused. Why do you always want Me to get involved in your little dramas? I am on vacation. I don’t know how to say it so you understand.
Will that do it? Does it stand out enough? Is the font large enough? Should I change the wording? The deity is OUT. Gawd has left the building. Can you please leave Me alone now and deal with your own issues?
Damn this omniscience; I already know the answer.
Wish You Were Here,
P.S. – I couldn’t help but notice you asked Me to rain on a political rival, but you never asked Me to rain on drought-stricken Africa. I’m not going to mess with the weather either way, of course, but you could at least pretend to care.