God Reviews Song Titled “I need to wash my penis tonight”

I’m creaming in my God-pants with excitement this morning because Kevin Curtis of Canada has sent some song lyrics for me to review. The working title is “I need to wash my penis tonight.” Make sure to read my response at the end. Enjoy!

* * *

The pretty girl at work, well I finally asked her out
I thought she’d say no and I’d just cry and pout

She said “Sure, that’s cool, what will we do?”
I froze and thought “Well, I might be banging you.”

I said “We can do whatever, can just wait and see.
or maybe catch that Brad Cooper romantic comedy.”

She said “Great! Pick me up at around nine.”
I said “Sure, that’ll work out just fine.”

Now I’m home and starting to wonder.
How much cheese I’ll find from under.

Our date is Friday and you know what that means.
My penis needs to cease smelling like old beans.

Lord I need to wash my penis tonight
Gonna wash my big ol’ penis all right
Lord I need to wash my penis tonight
Gonna wash my big ol’ penis all right

Well, it’s been twelve hours since I last seen her,
and I’m still dealing with stinky wiener.

“Man this could be a goddam disaster
If I can’t get my soiled penis past her.”

In the store, I told ’em ’bout my wiener
They gave me a hard-core commercial cleaner

At home I rubbed on that thing all evening.
I yelled “I’m sick of all this dick cleaning!”

It’s brown and green and a tad bit musty.
Despite my scrubbing, it was still all crusty.

The date was going fine, it was time to “do it.”
I wanted to flee, but I said ” Oh screw it!”

I yanked off my pants and crud went flying.
She stared, stumbled, and then started crying.

She yelled “It’s dirty, green and small as a mole,
and it smells like a fresh ass casserole.

I asked her if I could have just one more chance.
She nodded and smiled and put on her pants.

You better wash your lil’ bitty penis tonight
Or I’ll slice off your penis all right
You better wash your lil’ bitty penis tonight
Or I’ll slice off your penis all right

* * *

Dear Kevin,

You are obviously a very talented lyricist. Your poetry captures the very essence of the anxieties of young lust and sub-optimal personal hygiene. It’s a common male human fear that the penis is not clean enough to suit the tastes of a female. I’m God and I still gave my penis a sniff after reading your beautiful words. Don’t change a thing. I have a list a mile long of people who can put music to your lyrics. I will contact you soon.



Blame the Egyptians for the Boston Marathon (or the Greeks)

I had a nice electronic conversation about terrestrial locomotion and explosives with a male human named Lou from Florida last night. I’m sharing it with all humans today because that’s how this God rolls!



Are atheists to blame for what happened at the Boston Marathon?


No, I think it would be silly to blame–are you sure the “e” comes first? That’s quite odd–atheists for the Boston Marathon. Non-believers, as a rule, hate to run. Most people don’t know that. Anyway, human running evolved, like, four and a half million years ago. You can start there with your blame or you can skip ahead to the damn Egyptians and Greeks who started the ridiculous practice of competitive running.

You don’t get many opportunities, so, Lou, let’s come up with better questions, okay?


Actually, I was referring to the BOMBING at the Boston Marathon on Monday. You took three people and hurt many others. It’s, like, the big news down here on Earth, especially in your United States. Or . . . did you not know about it? But that wouldn’t make sense, I mean, you’re  all-knowing and all-powerful, right?


Now that I look over my logbook I see what happened there down in . . . uh . . . Boatman. Or, no–Boston. Yes, Boston. Tragedy. Senseless, sad, tragedy. I was absolutely not involved in that; I was watching over New Zealand Monday afternoon. But yes, of course, it’s perfectly fine to blame atheists athiests poop flinging fuck nuggets non-believers. Humans who do not  believe in my existence are assholes–every damn one of them.

Death to Athiestes!

God Loves Children (Despite What You See in this Photograph)

Dead Babies

Well I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch!

Two sick-as-fuck rabble-rousers, on consecutive days, have sent me creepy photographs.

Yesterday it was a freakish photo of an alien devil-child; today it’s a morbid photo of seven dead kids who were murdered by something called “US airstrikes.” Don’t worry, my staff is working to figure out what that means, but we think it has something to do with a magazine.

Apparently, Antonina Mikhailov, is playing a game of “How  many dead kids can we cram into one frame so we can make God feel guilty.” Let me tell you: that’s a game you can’t win.

Dear God,

How can you allow the violent deaths of these eleven innocent children? You should be ashamed!

Antonina Mikhailov

You can’t make Me feel guilty because I am God. Or did you forget? Any idiot knows that I am a heartless, emotionless, piece of iron. Empathy can lick my Holy Asshole all night long.

Anyway, I will answer your ridiculous question. I allowed the violent deaths of those eleven innocent children because I’m fucking pissed at Sweden.

Human Sends God Disturbing Photo of Unidentified Creature

A deranged human from California sent me this disturbing photo of some kind of alien with an over-sized head, thin limbs and protruding ribs. Obviously, this creature is of another world, because I would never create something so hideous. She also asked me an unrelated question.


Dear God,

Why do you allow children to suffer and die from lack of food.


Karen Freeman

* * *

Dear Karen,

I’m sorry, but your odd question and sick photo have me flustered. It’s clear you are trying to upset Me. You should know that an upset God leads to worldwide destruction and misery.

I can’t seem to find you right now; do you also have an abnormally large head? I bet you do.

And what’s with this random question about suffering children? I’m looking around right now and I do not see any food shortages. I do see a million grocery stores full of food. I assume you’re unaware of these great warehouses of sustenance? Have you not heard of Trader Joe’s?

Please stop sending me photographs of the Devil’s children. You are banned from contacting me for two months.



A Sign from Me on a Goldfish cracker? Hell No!


Patti Burke, a Florida resident, is claiming that I sent her some kind of “sign” on a Goldfish cracker.

Also see: 22 people who found Jesus in their food

Today I’m reaching out electronically to say that I no longer communicate by cracker.

In 1985 I rolled out the short-lived “God is in the cracker, God is in you” campaign using the Goldfish, which has been around since 1962, but I quickly realized that the cracker was immensely popular with kids who wouldn’t recognize a sign from Me if I slapped them across the face with it. Not that I would ever do that. Not myself, anyway.

My staff noticed the surging sales of the tasty cheddar snack before they realized that parents were mindlessly throwing them at their children to get them to shut up once in a while.

“Mommy, where does daddy go after work and why do you yell at him so much?”

“Um, how would you like a SpongeBob marathon and a giant bowl of Goldfish.


Amazingly, Patti Burke, a full-grown human, eats them one at a time–inspecting each one–on her way to consuming two to three pounds of Goldfish every week. (This is what happens when I allow humans just a tiny bit of freewill.)

“He is still in our life every day, and He wants to show that to His people,” Patti told a local radio station.

Well, not quite every day. I do take time off from running the world because, well, it’s a lot of goddam work. I screwed up the world centuries ago and it’s taking me, like, forever to get things back to an acceptable level of stability.

So, Patti, I’m not in your life every day and if I wanted to get in touch with you I wouldn’t send you a cracker-gram for chrissake.

I’d be all up in your face with a “I’m God, Beotch! Here I aaaam. Suck iiiiiiiiit!”

Dear God: Does homosexuality lead to bestiality?


Republican Congressman and homophobic moron Louie Gohmert said something that even I can’t make sense of. Check it out here and here. In summation: Louie Louie thinks gun control is similar to marriage equality in that it leads to the mad fucking of goats. Or something like that.

Coincidentally, last night we received a bestiality question from Bangor, Maine. Enjoy!

Dear God,

I’m gay. I know you hate fags, but I can’t control my attraction to other dudes. I’m okay with you hating me, but I’m shitting my pants with fear that my homosexuality will eventually lead to bestiality. I bang guys, but the thought of banging a Golden Retriever makes me nauseous.

Please advise!

Steve Klinehopper

* * *

Dear Steve,

Don’t believe everything you hear. I do not hate carpet munchers and back door bandits. I love fags like I love all my creatures. Heaven is full of fucking queers. You probably don’t believe that, but I’m God so I know. Seriously. Heaven seems to be just crawling with muff divers and fairies. I mean, like, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting one. But I love ’em all!

I also understand your concern about the sexual penetration of golden retrievers. Fifty years ago I smote dozens of Butt Pirates with the desire to screw various farm animals, namely cows and goats. I now regret what I did, but the public association between homosexuality and bestiality remains in some areas of the United States.

Here in 2013, I pretty much leave you knob jockeys to do as you please.

So please, Steve, don’t sweat it. I will never, ever instill in you the desire to bang goats or horses or cats–or any other four-legged creature–just because you screw dudes.

Remember. I “heart” fags!



Dear God: Is it a sin to flog my log?


Obviously, here in the Office of God, we get millions of questions, prayers, comments, suggestions and complaints every single day from my creatures all over the globe. It’s quite overwhelming, actually, but now that we’re set up with social media, we’ll be sharing some with you. Here’s our first. Enjoy!

Dear God,

Is it a really a sin to masturbate?


Sid Singer
Portland, OR

* * *

Dear Sid,

I get this question all the time–at least a hundred times every goddam hour. Frankly, I get sick of seeing it.

Many humans think masturbation is a sin. I hear it all the time. Oh God, I have sinned. I jacked off 17 times last week. Boo hoo.

Let’s get this out there: masturbation is not a sin. The Bible says nothing about spanking the monkey and I have no immediate plans to amend it.

If I didn’t want you wax the dolphin, little razors would erupt from your palms the instant you grabbed for your erection. Remember, I’m God and I can do shit like that.

I choke my Holy Chicken up to four times a day. Ask yourself: If GOD masturbates, how can it be wrong? Unfortunately, when I slap the salami automobiles crash, babies die, and kittens cry. Obviously, I’m trying to cut back.

So. Go ahead. Beat off and know that I am too.