Dear Jose Merced…

sacrifice

Stinkiest House on Fannin Dr., Euless, TX 76039

Dear Jose,

  I ran into My old friend and former classmate, Invisible Pink Unicorn, on vacation in Mexico City a few days ago.  After a few tequilas, We got around to comparing notes and opining on the merits of the way brand-loyalists did things in the Good Old Days.  Not surprisingly, your name popped up.

  You, sir, are My kind of guy.  I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t know when I say that I miss the smell of goat in the morning.  It smells like… Victory, (though obviously not as much as tithing).  I don’t know where people got the idea that I didn’t like a bit of roast pheasant or perhaps a haunch of bullock on the weekend.  I do know that a lot of brand-loyalists picked up the mistaken idea that just because My youngest boy, Hippy Jesus, got slightly crucified for His Deity Club initiation, that they don’t have to cook for me occasionally.  Not only is that wrong, it’s insulting.  What’s My boy, chopped liver?  They evidently think so, imagining that He takes the place of a nice mutton saddle.

  Beyond that, they’re implying that I prefer the smell of dying deity over the tantalizing aroma of dove pie.  I mean, what do I look like, a cannibal?  The more I think of it, the more it chaps My Holy Fundement.

  So, all that to tell you that I’m behind your lawsuit against the city of Euless 100%.  Don’t pay any attention to their kvetching about health issues and such.  What’s more important, the health of your neighbor’s kids or My momentary enjoyment of the smell of roast lamb chops?  I’m quite looking forward to your eventual win.  I expect a pretty impressive thanks-offering when you do.  Just be sure that no one in your neighborhood is having a bar-b-que when you fire up the old offering grill.  I sometimes can’t tell the difference and I’m sure you don’t want those moaners to get the credit.

Wish You Were Here,

~Gawd

Advertisements

11 responses to “Dear Jose Merced…

  1. Would Gawd be pleased if I killed spiders and flying insects in his name? I don’t mind killing them, they don’t make much of a mess, and the health risks for my neighbors would be minimal. Also, I wouldn’t even have to breed or care for them – they just appear whether I want them to or not (I don’t – but if they’re going to come anyway, maybe I can make their presence pay off). Of course, they don’t have much of an aroma, but maybe I can just spray some perfume on their charred remains. Let me know if Gawd wants me to follow through on this, since I’ve got a couple of months in which I can prepare for the summer sacrifice season.

    • Chaplain,
      I can’t say for sure, but Gawd has never given me the impression that He longs for a whiff of burning tarantula hair. I’d play it safe and go with Filet Mignon avec Sauce Bernaise. Medium rare. Oh, and uncork a bottle of Chateau Rotschild and wave it around a bit.
      If you like, you can take a page from His early Chosen Chaplains and either eat it afterwards or sell it to someone else.

  2. How would a sacrificed goat provide vacation money for Gawd? What, you go up to the counter at some posh 4-star resort, they tell you the room is $650 a night, and you toss a goat carcass on the counter? Go with AmEx. Smaller wallet and no mess.

  3. Chappy has a point. I would love sacrifice to Gawd the raccoons that constantly visit and once live in my backyard.

    The problem is that Gawd is too picky. Only goats and mutton seem to please him.

    It’s a shame. Given the abundance of wild life that runs around my backyard (mostly rats and such), I could have Gawd begging for a daily sacrifice.

    • Lorena,
      Er… and beef. Duck and goose are alright, too. Pork has a nice aroma, also. However, racoon, squirrel, possum and other hillbilly fair is right out. Sorry.

  4. You do realize, Postie, that Gawd is leaving me no choice but to sacrifice my little beasts to the devil. When he sends me the postcard reminding me that I am headed to hell, I will refuse to read it.

    • Well, I don’t know that Beelzebub much likes road-kill, either. I saw Him at a party once and He seemed to be noshing on those little bread squares with anchovies on top, so I doubt the smell of roast armadillo will do it for Him. Sorry. Maybe you can try Quetzalcoatl. I hear His olfactory apparatus is out of whack.

  5. Does this mean I’ve been killing the squirrels that infest my yard just for my own amusement?

    • Your own amusement? That’s a given, isn’t it?

      If you’ve been using their cute little dead corpses as burnt offerings, then I’m afraid it’s been wasted effort.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s