Mood: accident prone
Topic: "Well, Poop"(8)
"This is God."
"Yo, Big Guy, Wassup?
"Where were you last night?"
"Whatchu mean? Where was I? I lined up my Financial Planner, you know him, Mark, the Pharisee? Then I started arranging for wire transfers of more than $650M to banks all around the world. Based on what you'd said, I then. . ."
"Whoa, big fella."
"Don't shush me Dude. I was making big plans because you implied that I was about to take on some new business in your behalf."
"Then how come you didn't go to Baltimore like I told you?'
"Baltimore? I thought you said 'Bald No More.' Weren't you telling me to put bear grease on my skull and then. . ."
"No. I was telling you to use the primary machine at the convenience store in Baltimore County."
"Hmph. I guess, what we have here is, 'Failure to communicate.'"
"Well, any way, now we have to figure out how. . ."
"Figure. Schmigure. You think I didn't hear about the Dude in Kansas who got struck by lightning after buying a couple of lottery tickets that had several winning numbers? I'm not sure I wanna mess with you at all."
"That was Randolph Terry, the Anti-Choice Fruitcake."
"It was just my way of letting everyone know that Deism was a bad idea even for Thomas Jefferson."
"So, did you set Tom up with Sally Hemmings?"
"It would be inconsistent for me to first say I was involved in affairs on the small, blue planet, then to deny the possibility."
"Okay, that's fair. What about Halle Berry? You know her?"
"Mr. Frodo, can we get back to the lottery, and how to help you move $600M into the hands of the poor and the underprivileged?"
"Oh yeah. Good point. But can we talk about Halle Berry a little later?"