Friday, January 25, 2008
Dear Hobo Jesus
Dear Hobo Jesus,
Since, you're the big dog on campus around these parts, I assumed you should be the first one to ask for help. I understand that you're doing your best, but the results are not coming soon enough to be satisfactory.
A few days ago, you were asked, by me, to cure me and my tummy ache. I had been sick for, gosh, a week and a half at the time, and I was getting pretty desperate. I assumed that this would be easy for you, seeing as how healing the sick appears to be your thing. Boy, was I wrong. I guess your powers are limited just to resurrection and telling Bush what to do. And that resurrection thing doesn't came in handy as often as you think it might. For instance, there are several things that I wish you hadn't "resurrected" in my presence. Like that piece of bread I ate, or that water I drank. Those were objects that I had no desire to see more than once in my lifetime.
But that's cool, Hobo Jesus. I'm willing to compromise with you. Since it's taking so youdamn long to heal my pithy little stomach bug, how about we try swinging the other direction? What I'm saying is this: If it's easier to just let me die than cure me, just go with that. I'm not really sure which you're better at, the killing or the healing, but whichever one it is, go with that. Either way, I will not be providing a good reference for you if you wish to put me on your resume.
PS - Oh, and put the stupid lamb down. We both know you're not going to cure him either.