Dear God,

                I’m like really psyched to write a letter to you because you’re like super amazing and totally my all time favorite hero alongside Birdman and Snoopy. I hope I called you by the right name ‘cuz I know you got like a bunch of names such as the Lord, the Almighty, the Omnipotent, G to the O.D et al. My family and my friends are all mega fans of you. We all think that you are the man, God.

                 Is it true that you see everything, God? People keep telling me stuff like that and sometimes it creeps me out a little. If it’s true I have a small request, God. Please don’t look when I go to the bathroom to take a crap. I really can’t do it if I know someone’s watching me. I haven’t crapped in the last twelve days ever since my mom told me that you watch everything that I do. And also I’m like totally sorry for jizzing into my English teacher’s handbag when she wasn’t looking. It was an accident, God; I was actually aiming for her shoes so that when she put it on it would be all gooey and sticky.

                I think you’re like the coolest dude around, God, ‘cuz every person that I know are like super scared of you even though nobody has really seen you in person. I can only scare my little cousin brother and that too ‘cuz I tell him that if he doesn’t give me his candy you would make his buttocks turn into mustard. That’s what one of my aunts used to say when I was eight so that I’d let her suck on my wee wee. I think it’s mega sweet that you have the power to turn people’s buttocks into anything that you want. You’re totally the man, God.

                 I know that you get angry really fast, God, ‘cuz all of your representatives down here on Earth say so but I’m like really itching to ask you something if you don’t mind. Which religion do you belong to, God? I’m like super confused ‘cuz Christians say that I’ve got to totally submit myself to Jesus, who they say is your son, if I’m to get to heaven. And also I have to go to church every Sunday and not say dirty words and stuff. I’m like massively into getting into heaven but I just want to make sure that if I suck up to Jesus I’ll get a spot. Christians also say that once I get into heaven I have to spend the rest of my life serving you, cleaning your rooms and stuff. Are you so messy God that you need so many people to clean after you? Did you really father Jesus, God? And why did you just stop with the one kid, God? Are you like so into family planning and stuff? And if you are a Christian I’m really sorry that that sonofabitch Adam stole that apple from your garden. Don’t hold that against the rest of us, God. In retrospect you should’ve had like an electric fence around that tree or something if you liked it that much.

                 Or are you a Muslim, God? Muslims say that if I, like, completely agree to what their Prophet says getting into heaven is, like, a total breeze. But it’s super hard to pray five times a day and also my back really hurts when I bow down like that. But I totally dig the fact that I get seventy virgins when I get to heaven. If that’s true I wish to do sixty-nine with all seventy of them. That’s like super sweet, God. But I also think that it would make heaven a really bloody place if people just get to penetrate virgins. Some Muslims also say that girls should, like, totally take a back seat and let men make decisions for them. I think that’s like way too smashing.

                 Or are you a Hindu, God? But there are, like, a thousand different versions of you in Hinduism. Some Hindus say that you’re, like, a cow or rat or an elephant and stuff. If that’s the case then you really need to get potty-trained, God. And I get like ultra messed up trying to figure out how to pronounce all the sacred words and stuff. If you’re a Hindu you must be, like, having awesome skills in phonetics. That’s mega sweet, God. And is it true that you only talk to Brahmans and not to other Hindus because Brahmans smell like curd? I have trouble pronouncing that word also, God. Is it like bra-man? Also, why does it take so many tries to get into heaven, God? Some Hindus say that I’ll keep getting born as different weird things like rabbits and dogs and ass pimples. That’s totally weak, God. Why can’t you just let me get into heaven after the first try? Come on, God, be a dude. 

                I know that you don’t belong to any other religions like Buddhism, Judaism and others ‘cuz they’re all, like, totally gay so I just hope that you’ll write back and let me know what religion I should really follow. I also hope you’ll let the rest of the people know ‘cuz they’re all, like, always bitching and groaning about which one’s the better one. I’m surprised you’re taking this long to clear this out, God, ‘cuz it’s a total mess down here. You should try visiting it at least once and definitely sort it out. And if you do decide to come down, I recommend you fly Kingfisher; they’re the only airlines with hot airhostesses.

                 There’s so much I want to ask you, God, but I don’t want to take a lot of your time. I totally want to know about Satan and if he’s really a cross dresser as the rumors have it and also about life and its purpose and shit like that. But I’ll do that another time.  I know that it’s time for you to watch your Seinfeld reruns. I don’t want to keep you from that but I really hope you’ll definitely clear up all the mess that we guys have created down here in your name. Also, God, just in case you didn’t know murderers, cheaters, fraudsters, assholes, and megalomaniacs are the bad guys. Not the poor, the devout, the meek, and the lazy. So when you do want to kill people please try and get it straight. Before I end the letter I just have one question to ask you, God. I know that you’re all knowing and all powerful but I’m not completely sure if you’ll be able to answer this question. Anyways, you’re the only person I can think of who would at least have, like, an inkling of what the answer to this question would be like. So here goes. God, what’s the deal with Paula Abdul?

                                                                                                          Your hugest fan,

                                                                                                                          Me.

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