Today, I was sent my first acceptance letter.
It’s from that Baptist school I was telling you all about. If you don’t know which one I’m talking about, don’t worry. Just keep in mind last time I tried to talk to Jesus he threw eggs at me.
Speaking of Jesus: One of my friends is God. I know because her beard tastes like Kool-Aid.
The reason I know she’s God is because she told me she’s God, and she’s female, and females are always right. Plus, why would anyone lie about being God? That’s dumb. It’s like the theosophical equivalent of lying about being obese. People can tell that you’re obese right away, because laser bolts shoot out of your eyes when they try to look at you, and angels give you AIDS.
God invented AIDS in 1962. It was a cold winter’s day and he didn’t have anything else to do.
I’m sorry, I’m being offensive. It’s always a bad idea to talk about religion, because the fact of the matter is that no matter what you say you’re going to piss someone off. No matter what you do, you piss someone off. Pissing people off is just part of life. Part of growing up is accepting that.
Accept that you’re going to piss people off, the same way the Baptist college accepted me. They know that I’m opposite-of-religious-man, but they don’t let that bother them. Do you know why? BECAUSE IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP AND WHEN I GET THERE THEY’RE GOING TO HOOD ME AND BEAT ME WITH PASTRAMI UNTIL I ACCEPT JESUS CHRIST AS MY ONE TRUE LORD AND SAVIOUR.
Twist. Circle. Add a dash of lemon and sell me to sleep.