An Open Letter To Your Deity Of Choice

as written by a thirteen year old me

God,

Please stop the parade of crazy women that have sought to enter my life. They are not cool. Instead, give me someone who is maladjusted or clingy. I say that because asking for some one normal would be too much. I know I am a little screwed up, but what you are giving me is the equivalent to beating the dog with a hot skillet after it whizzes on the carpet. Sure, he whizzed, but a rolled up newspaper would be fine. But no - no, God - you had to cook fajitas on that extra large skillet and then hit me with it before you washed out the onion grease. Not cool, God. Not cool.

I will make the same promise I made my Dad when I got my rabbit, Sugar. I will be very nice to her if you get her for me. I will feed her and change her cage everyday. I will even cut the poop out of the fur if it gets clogged up because she doesn't stand whenever no. 2 happens.

If will hold doors open and show up on time whenever asked. I will even hold hands if someone was watching. I would be ultra awesome nice to her, and you would be so impressed you might even give me two because other guys couldn't be as nice as me. Maybe you could even give me a whole village of women, who each have special limited edition Transformers (Autobots only) in their hut and.....

ED NOTE: He just trails on like this for a while. I'll skip ahead to the end.

So in summation, I will not ever do drugs unless a family member asks me. But in exchange for all that God, I want something to. Stop it with the weird ones. For the love of you, it's too much. Can't you just drop a highway overpass on that weird ones? And why is it I before E except after C - but not in weird. Isn't is weird how weird is spelled?

Anyway, drop a roof or make them slip on wet trash. We all know who they are. And they'll get to heaven if you do it.
-Ken

Reminders for class: I take no credit for this one. I seriously wrote this. Ok. Not really. Maybe. Ah, who knows?