Okay, here I go. Just give me a second to stretch the hammies (it's a really really tall soapbox, and I'm not exactly a spring chicken). Alllllright. Everybody listening? Good.
Sometimes I don't get you people. I mean, seriously. I've made your lives easier to figure out than assembling an Ikea dining room set. I've given you all the parts, clearly labeled. I've given you a detailed instruction booklet. I even gave you one of those funny little tools that looks like something somebody stepped on. But somehow you guys still manage to spread it all out on the floor, say "Huh?" and end up with a spare table leg you don't know what to do with.
Of course, I was speaking in a metaphor (or 'parable'). When I talked about the instruction booklet, I meant the Bible. When I talked about the funny little tools that look like something somebody stepped on, I mean Moses. Okay, so that one isn't even really a metaphor. Moses is a tool. An oddly-shaped tool. But, back on point, obviously the spare table leg is a metaphor. A metaphor for scented candles.
Why, people? Why do you have scented candles? What purpose do they serve? I mean, come on. It's fire that smells weird. Fire: cool. Weird smells: not cool.
And now because you guys are so obsessed with having your scented candles everywhere, the Missus wants them in Heaven. She thinks it would be really 'pleasant' to light something on fire and have it make the place reek like Kiwi Melon Paradise or something.
Not cool, guys. Not cool.
17 comments:
God writes on our blog and he writes about....scented candles?!?!
I've gotta go reconsider my entire perspective on theology now...
Just try not to speak in Parabolas. They give some of the ladies here headaches.
Oh, and the coffee scented candles? The worst! I love me some coffee. I love me some candles. Just don't mix them. That's disgusting.
Nick, we all know you are the one who wrote this.
If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, but....
I think you're wrong. I really do...
I don't think this is NtG's writing style. If he wrote this, I must give him kudos for being able to switch style like that. I have other ideas. And of course, katdish must know now since she gave him blog priveleges.
Besides, NtG's head would get too big if he thought we thought he is God....
God, would you talk to my co-worker who brought in his wife's homemade, soy, clean burning scented candles? They're nice people, but now I can walk around my office with my eyes closed and know exactly where I'm at based on the smell. We officially have a cinnamon zone, lilac, and some smell that makes me think of laundry.
Seriously, I think I love whoever wrote this. :)
No, actually katdish doesn't know.
....or do I?
Where the frikin frack is Ryan B anyway? I need to give away some skank in his likeness, and I need his permission to do so.
Actually, knowing you, I think the best way of finding out is to make it clear that we know you know, and then not ask you. At. All.
facebook. He updates his facebook status pretty regularly.
I can assure you that this is not me. I'd feel to uncomfortable writing under that pseudonym though I could switch my writing style if I felt the need. I already have a couple few different modes of writing for my blog.
Ps, I'd be more likely to write as Dr. Awesome ... but that isn't me either.
Dear God,
Remind the Missus that Moses has this thing for fire. He's also a klutz and would probably get his robes too close to the candles. Then you'd end up with fire that smells like Moses' stanky old robes. Not pleasant or relaxing.
Hmmm... I wonder if you could buy Moses scented candles...
Dear Smarty Pantses,
Wow. What's with all the debating about who I am? I thought I made that pretty clear, what with the, "Hey. It's God," introduction. It's just me. You know. God. The real one. Not one of those purple ones with five arms, but the one with a really awesome beard.
Maybe it's because some of you don't know my blog. http://god-has-a-blog.blogspot.com
Love,
God
p.s. Thanks for the suggestion, Steph! Although the Missus thinks I should cut Moses some slack, I doubt she'd want him to catch on fire.
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