Friday, May 06, 2005

 

Dear God


Hi, how are you (or do you prefer "ye")? I hope you're well. I am well. How are the little fishes? I hope they're well also.

I thought I'd just write you a note and tell you that I received your latest message loud and clear. Thanks so much for making sure that there's no doubt whatsoever about the fact that you hate my fucking guts.

I'm not quite sure why you're so angry. Is it because I always refer to you as "dog"? Is it because I refuse to believe in the conventional religion thingie, or tithe, or that I referred to you as a "motherfucker" in a recent epistle to someone whose name I won't mention just in case you're in a smiting kind of mood today? Have I transgressed in some other manner, the true enormity of which has yet to be revealed to me?

Is it because I'm funnier than you are?

No matter the reason, don't you think that your actions of this evening were, to put it mildly, a little bit of overkill?

Was it really necessary to have me answer my phone this evening, to hear the dulcet tones of my friend, aka "stupid", asking me for the address of my home? (I had asked her over about 9pm, so this wasn't exactly classified information, however she was ringing at 7.) Was it further necessary for her to ask me to open my front door, and upon doing so for me to find her and her children standing on my front walk, preparatory to viewing the upstairs (and next door) apartment that is currently for rent?

I'm not sure what I did to deserve my landlord agreeing to rent to them. I'm very disappointed that her annoying French Canadian boyfriend didn't spontaneously combust, no matter how fiercely I focused my Death Ray Glare on his unsuspecting and unimaginative white t-shirt.

I understand that it must have been something horrible that I did, and that likely if I don't know that you're not going to tell me anyhow. I know how sensitive you get this time of the month.

I really don't think it was necessary for them to move in tomorrow morning, though.

Really.

Bitch.

Comments:
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If I can hop a plane in the next few hours, I can be up there by the end of the day. If I offer, like, twice the rent they are asking, I can probably bump out Stupid & FCB and be moved in by morning. Problem solved.

And then you will eventually learn to hate *me* too . . .

(In case you're wondering ... in the previous post I misspelled the last "too" as "to". It was driving me nuts, so I had to redo it.)
 
Got a new place you can move to by morning?

Argh. Even for *very BEST friends* that is WAY too close for comfort. Just think, you could be having tea together twice a day every day that you are not working your ass off.
 
Ha Ha ! Finally you feel the slap of the Almighty. Thank God (literally) that he/she/it has moved on to you after focusing on Rebecca for so long. She needs a break...oops poor choice of words.
 
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