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Sorry for not posting an update yesterday. It's a vacation for Josh, but some of us are here for work. I need to keep this job, especially now. You think it's cheap keeping a cracker in cheesecake and Stoli? 'Cause it's not.
I think Josh is integrating more into the 21st century. He's doing well, considering so many of his believers thought the world would end by now. He's sitting around in a homemade Batman outfit watching "classic" rap videos. He wants me to call him DJ Jeezy Christ, but I can't be an enabler for this.
Oh, wait - Josh wants to say something.
Yo, bitches!
As I stroll on the waters of my 'hood Nazareth
I be counting all of you who think you deserve to be blessed
And I've been loavin' and fishing so fast that
Those bastard Romans gonna come nail my ass
Been wasting all my life
Walking 'round this savior's paradise
No time to take a wife
Crank it in a savior's paradise
I'm just here to ease thy strife
In this dirty savior's paradise
Gonna get no drums or fife
Hangin' round this savior's paradise
Peace out!
(Drums or fife? Ouch.)
I wish you could see him do his little fist bump on his chest and point to himself. It's adorable.
Anyhow, nothing from Bill Donohue, but exciting news! We heard from Josh's dad!
The big guy seems a little laid back. Even Josh is suspicious. The God I was expecting would solve the problem with an intercontinental ballistic lightning bolt. I've been wearing rubber knickers for a week and a half now! And I certainly didn't expect God to be Bill Donohue's lickspittle. You would think a loving father would do whatever is necessary to get his son back, but... well... look what he let happen to his son LAST time. I was not expecting to haggle.
Anyway, the negotiations will continue, just in case. I'm going to need some evidence. Some Proof of Afterlife, if you will. After his vacation is over, anyway.
In case it's not the real McCoy, new demand tomorrow! Get ready to tighten your sphincters, Catholics! (See? It's not so funny when someone says it to you, is it?)
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2 comments:
Er... I just got a text message from Gawd. He's in Wales right now and, well, I think you pissed Him off. I wouldn't lose rubber undies.
~Postman
(text message follows[edited for family viewing])
" you tell that sob hes dangerously close to screwing up my vacation with that lickspittle comment if i have to cut short my trip to conwy castle my lawyers and i will do such a tag team smiting on his [posterior] that job will send a sympathy card if i can find a post office in this me-[darned] place ill send him a letter that will make the angels weep
wish you were here
gawd"
What happened to Day Eight?
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