My Letter to God

Walt D
I was touched by the pathetic poignancy of this article, dealing with a bunch of unopened letters to God found dumped in the ocean. Surely we can come up with a more strategic placement for such celestial correspondence. I'm publishing my letter to God here in the hopes that He reads it.

Dear God;

Let's begin at the beginning...

Thanks for the birth and subsequent life, but did you have to make me Polish? My last name is unpronounceable and there are more Polack jokes than God jokes. You did make me a handsome devil, though. The smoldering steel-blue eyes were a nice touch; the chicks dig 'em. Thanks. Moving on...

Kudos on the whole beauty and harmony of nature thing. It does seem odd that the ultimate product of millions of years of evolution turns out to be a bunch of murderous monkeys who proceed to dismantle the intricate harmony you so meticulously created. Just sayin'...

Why has it been thousands of years since your last special guest appearance here? Talk about poor management skills. I know you have countless other inhabited planets to tend to. You probably have a polka-dotted arachnid Jesus spreading the Word on Zoraak IV, about to have all 8 legs nailed to the wood of the carnivorous slime-trees that grow in abundance there, but could You at least check in? We're dyin' over here!

Half the world is blowing the shit out of itself in Your Name and the other half is praying to You to make it stop.

Every time someone comes up with a particularly lame-brained idea, they say it came from You.

The only tangible evidence I can see of Your existence is Jessica Alba (and Damn is she tangible). You went a little overboard with Kate Beckinsale... too perfect; she looks like a doll. Note: there's a fin in it for You if You make more Albas.

What I'm asking here is that You come to Work for a change. Show Yourself, clear up some of the contention surrounding the volumes of material supposedly authored by You and their countless contradictory interpretations, fix some shit and move on. Hell, it wouldn't take You a day.

If that's too much trouble...

Do us a favor and wipe all notions and fantasies of You from our little monkey brains so we can see the world as it really is and get around to fixing it ourselves.

Your sniveling, groveling servant,

Walt D.

P.S. Sorry about the farting in church.. it's just so funny to watch people try to sing hymns while breathing through their mouth.

Published by Walt D

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  • Robinmarie Vabolis-Warner10/13/2008

    Brilliant!! I hope he answers soon :)

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