God, the Almighty Creator, announced early Monday evening that he is canceling a prayer stop in Chillicothe.
“I’ve had it with these ‘unspoken prayer requests,’ what is it with these things? How the hell am I supposed to know what you want? No more. Either you tell me what’s up or it’s hasta la vista, baby.”
The omnipotent deity continued to explain how these purposely vague and generally pointless unspoken prayer requests can take up too much valuable time during his busy schedule:
“Listen, Brenda, spit it out. I’ve gotta be in Redding, Pennsylvania in about ten minutes to help Katie-What’s-Her-Name find her damn car keys, and you’re gonna make me sit here asking what’s wrong? I’m not your boyfriend. I’ve got shit to do.”
God also noted the construction of a new data center in heaven which will process the growing influx of “one like = one prayer” Facebook posts.
“Well, I felt like we needed to find a way to process all of these. I’m gonna be completely honest with you, up until now when I see those things, I just BOOP—straight to the trash can. I’m not even sorry about it. Half the time it’s like, a dog with a piece of deli ham on its head and the text is all ‘This poor dog has a horrible skin disease… share for God to heal it.’
…he’s got a piece of ham on his head! You people are idiots.”
“So basically I’m making this data center, and the gist of it will be to take a look at each post and place it in a ranking system. It doesn’t really matter what the subject of the post is, it could be the ham dog or a kid with cancer, if it doesn’t have enough likes, it’s gone. NEXT.”
I asked him how effective he thinks this could be in saving lives or helping us poor souls on earth.
“Ha! Wow, you don’t get this at all. This data center has fuck-all to do with saving people. I just think it’s a funny way to show people how dumb these posts are. ‘Ohhhh sorry little Billy with cancer, not enough likes… see ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!'”
Wow God, that seems, really mean.
“Listen, you’re talking to the guy who… one day I was bored just drinking a few beers with my buds in heaven and I was like, yo watch this—’Hey Abraham, go kill your son for me.’ Just to see if the dude would do it, and you know what… he was gonna do it! He really was. I was laughing my ass off up here like, wow man, I have pretty much shit on you your entire life and still you keep listening to me. What a dumbass.”
God asks that all future prayer requests be clearly defined and limited to truly important matters.
“If I get one more email from Kevin Newberry in bum-fuck Utah about his kid’s snotty nose, I’m gonna flip my lid. Listen Kevin, give the little shit some cold medicine and get back to jerking it in the shower while your wife is sleeping. Yea, I see you buddy.”