Monday, August 11, 2008

Dear God Pt 2

Do you realize how unbelievably tired I am this Monday morning? Do you!?

I'm talking to You God.

And God, don't even start with this whole...'we never talk stuff.' We talk all the time. Don't forget all that praying I was doing last week with my head in the trashcan downstairs at the bar.

Since You and I are such buddies God, why can't I convince You to give me an extra few days to prepare for my usual 80 hour work week? At least throw in another Sunday or give me a 3 day vacation in Vegas or Hawaii so I can clear the cobwebs.

I will totally write some new Psalms or something.

This weekend was another Hedonistic foray into Ripley's 'Believe it Or Not' . And God...again. I don't believe it.

My friends and I at Fedora created a new shot that we named 'Fight Club.' This shot is so strong that you'll want revenge after you drink it. So we drank it and now I'm looking to settle some old debts. It's 151, Tequila and Myers dark rum.

The girls I drank it with tried to spit it out ... but they only managed to light the bar on fire.

After 'Fight Club' I'm thinking of mixing up something like the 'World Peace' or the 'Love Boat.' Maybe I should just mix up a 'Halcyon' or a 'Tranquility Base.'

At any rate God. I need some sleep. Why did you make me an insomniac in the first place? Is it so we can talk more or are you still angry with me about all those 'B' movies I drag you to?

Here we go. Coffee time. I'm not 'gellin' so far so I guess I need my caffeine fix.

I think we Americans should take Siestas like they do in Mexico. Today at least...it is a very real possibility that my friends might find me asleep in a corner wearing a sombrero.

Not like that hasnt happened before mind you. But the lobster was free, the tequila had horns and I vaguely remember a girl named Maria with very clean feet.

The problem with Monday is that I'm not done with Sunday and that Monday is leading me somewhere that I'm not ready to go.

Who in his or her right mind is ready to work all week? Oh wait. I'm a workaholic right? How many conditions did you build me with God? Seriously.

God. Next time we go bowling .... you're paying.

Sincerely,

Scott Free

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