GOD, a wo/man of indeterminate age and ethnicity lies exhausted on a cloud, sleeping, fitfully, despite the syrupy din of violinists playing Amy Grant Muzak (TM).

BRAD (4eva5) a cherub with plump nipples and an adoring expression floats up from under the cloud wearing nothing but a loincloth, flaps his wings as he taps God on the shoulder. God stirs fitfully.

No… Find your own parking space you lazy bitch.

God! God! God! Wake up! There’s been a sign!

God sighs and props himself/herself up on his/her elbow.

It’s not America again? Is it? What do they want NOW? I just gave them Spring? And Obama was struggling, so he got that thing in Libya… gets to… Brad?

Brad’s glum expression tells God everything s/he needs to hear.

If I were God, I'd be, like, "Are you talking to me? Are you talking to ME? Again?" When is God supposed to get some rest? And "Who's in charge, here? I'll bless when I feel like it! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!"


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  1. Shannon Says:

    I beat you to TM’ing Amy Grant Muzak by about 20 years. That’s what happens when you attend a church that piped her into the skating rink. (Yes, our church had a skating rink.)

  2. jeanbarker Says:

    Actually, I was TMing muzak, which is a trademarked brand šŸ™‚

  3. Shannon Says:

    I had no idea Muzak was actually a trademark. Why would you want to trademark elevator music?

  4. jeanbarker Says:

    The same person who wants to trademark Crocs, perhaps? It’s money. Think how many elevators and massage parlours there are in the world… and it’s gotta be profitable. I heard the most ‘ho’larious muzak type music the other night, in a Japanese restaurant in Orange – Japanese style instrumentals of Beatles numbers.

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