The angry gods sat at the table made from the bones and skin of humans.
They rallied and railed on the loss of devotees. What can we do? They just sit there looking at "internet porn".
The succubus quietly brought in cheeses from all regions.
Bloggers! Harrumphed another one.
Yahweh stood and raised a hand. "I believe it's time for a complete reinstall."
“Of course you would” said Zeus “you always like that. But seriously who here has the time for such a project.”
“I do. said Satan.
Then let Satan do it and let us see what he gets.
“That’ll be seven sixty seven buddy.” Said the clerk.
The guy behind me said. "Buddy? Last I heard a buddy was a bump on a dog's ass. Don’t let him call you that?"
He was right. No Mother Fucken human should be allowed to call anybody "buddy" that’s just too disrespectful to let slide. So I took my Slurpee and beef jerky out to my car and got my gun. I went back in and shot the bastard in the knee.
I told him, while he was crying like a little girl, that he better think about calling people names.
The little gnome opened the door. He had two bowls in his hand. One with last nights stew and another with water.
He was greeted by a hoard of little creatures. Alll of them jumping up and down clammering for his attention, or was it the food?
Aww he knew this venture was a gold mine. Why the humans all kept talking about these little creatures.
Why not breed them and sell them. He asked his gnome wife.
Who is going to want barking spiders? Was her only reply.
She did not stay the smell was too much for her.
The shoes were a stinky contraption of leather, rubber and canvas held together by man made threads. The logo design was no longer important because they just hung on the wire. On the wire the shoes told everybody that a bad man lived here and to stay away.
Everyday they were a constant reminder to him that he let a banger take his shoes. Shoes his daddy bought for him, just before he left. His momma was so mad when he came home that she beat him.
And now he hides under the porch smoking pot barefooted in the mud.
The last grain of her sand dropped into the bottom bell and she drew in her last breath and expired.
At her side was her lover. At her end, he wailed and cried. He angrily shook his fists at god. And he yelled never again do you hear me? NEVER!
Everyday you wake up and slobber on the phallus of corporate America. Drinking down their vile seed, begging for more of the bitter spooge.
There are so many lies and false promises that the air around them tastes of vomit and garbage and deceit.
But there you are first in line to take them to your chest, like a self-loathing lover, you have no more self-respect than a crack whore.
Everytime the get a stiffy, you think this time they will care. That you will get some return, but no, they grunt, they pump and they dump. Off they go tossing a lie or two over their shoulder as they head out the door.
No kiss, no call, no after thought. You are the whore mistress. They don't remember your name when they get to the curb.
But you allow their evil despicable acts everytime.
But you spit, slobber and snot yourself and raise the corporate thieves on high. You treat them like saints and canonized miracle makers.
You'd kill your neighbor to be the one to receive their feces that are thrust down from their sacred mountain built upon the souls of the rest of the consumers and workers.