God does not care if I jerk off, eat pizza, jerk off while eating pizza. I’ve explicitly asked it for permission while I did both activities. Paws filled with pizza sauce, and people sauce, and a ragged smile. God, I said. Do I have permission for this? No word. Jack, jack, eat, jack. God, I said. Are you busy? I have trouble with the fact that I’m tortured by the past and terrified of the future. No word. Jack, jack, eat, jack. God, I said. Are you busy? I have trouble with the fact that I’m in a rotting meat-case on a rotting planet, and frankly I think it’s a race to the finish line between the two of us. No word. No word. Jack, jack, eat, jack.

Citizens of OL, I say. Are you busy? It’s the weekend and I want to hang out with all of you. Click click, clack clack of the keyboard. Citizens of OL, I say. Are you busy? It’s the weekend and I want you to share everything you’re reading, eating, playing, seeing, experiencing with me. Click click, clack clack of the keyboard.

God, I said. Are you busy? Citizens of OL, I say. Are you busy? Jack, jack, eat, jack. Click click, clack clack of the keyboard.

God, Citizens, let’s spend some time together.

This is Weekend Open Bar.

Read the rest of this entry »

Einstein’s famous letter where he more or less spread his genius bum all over the concept of God has sold on eBay for a ridiculous amount of ducets. I mean, shoot. I’d love to own it, but for the price it went for? Clearly the buyer isn’t worried about making rent on their secret Mars base.

Read the rest of this entry »