It’s not that I hate God. I really don’t. We were boys once, but He got a little too demanding and needy. So fucking needy.
God, it’s not a very attractive feature.
LOVE ME, RUDY! LOOOOOVVVEEEEEEEMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Or I’ll send you to hell, mothafucka!
Okay, maybe he didn't really call me a mothafucka. But still.
And He’s always sending his friends to my house at ridiculous hours of the morning. He’s knows I like to sleep in! And here’s the thing, depending on which of his friends he sends, they all have different, very mixed, messages. And sometimes they tell me I shouldn't listen to God’s other friends! As if they’re the only ones God really talks to.
Anymore when they show up unannounced I just answer the door in my boxer-briefs and ask if they’d like to come in for some blow and unprotected anal. I make it very clear they have to catch.
|Sounds like the perfect way to live to me.|
But I still get so much shit from people because I make fun of religion and people of faith. Listen, I can’t help that part of your religious experience includes a high propensity of butthurt. The problem is that you’ve been using your faith/religion/personal relationship with The Dude On High as an excuse to be an asshole to those who don’t share your same dogma.
And when you're not trying to use your religion to keep the playing field uneven, you like to pretend that your version of Allah/Yahweh/Jesus is right and the other two are wrong and even evil. You do understand that that's like three petulant fucking kids arguing over who Dad loves more, right? You are bickering over the same fucking imaginary friend.
I have no choice but to call bullshit on that. In parlance you can understand: it is what I am called to do.
And let’s make one last thing clear: If there was ever a time in this country when someone tried to deny you your right to exercise your archaic belief system, I would stand up and call bullshit on the offenders just as quickly as I have on you.