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.

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