Friday, January 06, 2006

God to Rev. Robertson: "Shut Yer Hole"

NOTE: Once again, God has turned to his go-to guy (me) to relay a message to his wayward son Pat Robertson. God's message to Pat is as follows:

BLOIS!

Ha ha! Just kidding there.

With that running gag now officially dead, here is the text of the message that God wants relayed to the Reverend:

Dear Chucklehead:

It's been about 2 months since I last commanded you to stop saying stupid things. I'm sorry: I know I should have stayed in better communication with you. But I've been busy, what with planting all those Australopithicus fossils in the Olduvai Gorge. Plus I've been quite busy trying to figure out how to create a rock too large for Me to move. Being a Supreme being is a 24-hour a day job, you know.

In fact, I was so busy, that I didn't have time to inflict a stroke on some foreign leader with whom you disagree. What was that you said again?

I prayed with him personally. But here he is at the point of death. He was dividing God's land, and I would say woe unto any prime minister of Israel who takes a similar course to appease the EU, the United Nations or the United States of America.

"Woe unto any prime minister..."??? What the hell kind of Me-damned nonsense is that? Dude, we're in the twenty-first century now. How about updating your vernacular a bit?

And here's a news flash for you Pat: It's all my land. From Ulan Bator to Lake Titicaca. I made it. I own it. I promised Israel to the Jews because it was the most realistic place to settle them at the time. I mean, when you've got a nomadic tribe of people wandering the desert with barely a donkey among them, how far was I supposed to make them walk? It's not like they could have all gotten on a DC-10 and flown off to Boca like they do now.

Anyway, let me reiterate: Shut the hell up. It's been several thousand years since I destroyed the world with a flood. But if you keep purporting to know what My designs are, I swear to Me that I may just send another one.

Highly localized.

Completely within your mansion.

Warmest Regards,

God

P.S. By the way: Catholicism is the one true religion, you all were descended from apes, and look for Brokeback Mountain to sweep the Oscars. So why don't you just go curl up in the fetal position on the floor and commence with the wailing and gnashing of teeth. You disgust me.

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