I Suppose I Should Be Thankful...

Tis the season, after all. The kids of Israel always did this, and it pissed God off considerable. Murmuring, I mean. Murmur murmur murmur, until God told them to shut the fuck up and broke all their shit and enslaved their asses.

Moses, the biggest Jew-Wheel of all, besides maybe Jesus, missed out on the last episode of Survivor...got voted right off the island. Abraham, now he was down and dirty wit God, and would have knifed the piss out of Isaac, so an angel had to zip like Tink down here, and stay that stabbin sonofabitch's hand, ere perforation occurred, and Jesus didn't get borned. And Bathsheba didn't get porked. Man, I like David.

So, my heart is out on the altar, flayed open, and the blood is dried like old sweet-n-sour sauce. Gelled, there. Goo. Nothing of import, easily done. Raise it up to the gods, your obsidian blade there, forgotten in your revelation.

What a fucking murmuring baby. Sorry. When it takes a fifteen minute video of Americans dying to cheer me up, you can just imagine the depths to which my poor, tattered soul has sunk.

Go out to your barbecue there, under the overhang, dripping with rain, and scoop up a handful of ashes into your mouth...yes, there, a taint of tinfoil, a piece of bone, and dead briquets. Now, spit. That phlegm, squirming there on the patio, is my soul. Dramatic? To be sure. Remember 'The Crow'? If I could empty just the last ten years of my life into you, like that, you and everything around you for a mile would sink into a black hole and be sucked out the Devil's ass into an alternate universe.

Metaphysical corn.

I'm going to stop now.


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