Thank You, Nonexistent God!
[Warning: Blasphemy threat RED. Please don't get all clicky and then all persnickety. ]
Look, Christian God. I know our relationship has been tenuous ever since that day I told you I didn’t believe in you, anymore. And maybe that one time when I nailed that heart to the neighbor’s door made you feel like I didn’t have your back. But as I’ve said time and time again, the devil made me do it. Also, never mind that dead body behind the curtain. Or that unfinished dissertation.
But I digress. See, I want to show you that, while I still don’t believe in you, I can see the bright side of things. So, I did this writing exercise where I write things I’m thankful for–with explanations– as quickly as possible.
1. Thanks for the “Yawn Climax.” You know what I mean, don’t you? That point in the yawn when you finally feel satiated. Only, I’m not so jazzed about the fact that, just like other climaxes, I need another yawn minutes later. So, thank you, but c’mon….you can do better than that.
2. My dog. See! That’s you, only backwards. But my dog really does love me unconditionally. You basically say that, if I question your undying love, eternal damnation awaits me. Think about that logically for a second. And YES, I did steal that from Bill Hicks. Though, you know, my dog pissed on my floor the other night because she didn’t get a fucking cookie. And you know what? I should get a fucking cookie.
3. Sunshine! Wheeeeee!
4. Wine. Specifically Francis Ford Coppola’s Pinot Noir…because it’s good and semi-affordable. I can drink it when I think about the pile of shit that my life is, as I slouch toward that “graduation” mirage. It also doubles as an incredible composition-paper-grading potion So, yeah, thanks a lot. I’d especially like to thank you for that one composition paper years ago where that student talked about how the first time he got laid he wrote home on his bike still wearing the soiled condom. That kind of TMI always calls for Pinot Noir.
With one hand, you wound. With the other, you heal.
5. My car. I really love my car. It’s really cute and kind of stylish and paid off! W00t! Of course, I had to pay a grand to get it fixed last month and another $1600 4 months before that, but hey, it’s cheaper than a new car. Not that I’m ungrateful, you know.
6. [redacted] Yeah, that one was especially touching. I think therapy would help you figure out that there are other, less fucked-up ways to “teach us lessons.” Can you talk to your son and learn a thing or two about “parables”..? It was a cool approach that works better with students. And sometimes a little pop-culture analysis helps. Just ask Martin Scorsese. I just know he got your attention with that whole “one woman in the world” vs. PAINFUL DEATH thing.
7. My iPhone. Wait. You didn’t invent that, did you? Well, neither did Steve Jobs but he seems to take a whole helluva lotta credit for it. Come to think of it, what have you invented for me lately? Cows, check. Chickens, check. Adam, check, but I think this thousand-gen model needs an upgrade. Sin, check (thanks!). Disease, famine…..What else do you take credit for? What, are you a college professor?
8. My copy of the 1599 Geneva Bible and my 1610 King James Version Bible. Also, thanks for that Wycliffe one. But I noticed some typos and words changed between the versions, so you might want to check with your printer or editor. As they say, you should get that checked out. And DEAR YOU, take a good look at that New International version. I mean, it’s NOT EVEN PRETTY.
OH. And can we talk about your word choice and sentence construction….as well as your repetitive writing style? If you’re going to get all academic on us, LEARN TO PARSE. If you’re going to write fiction, SHOW DON’T TELL and please, for the love of you, be more ambiguous with your endings. Spoon fed = WEAK.
9. Giving me a brain, a heart and courage. And glittery red shoes. I’m still waiting for my shipment of flying monkeys. Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts.
10. Those crunchy things I can feel when I rub my feet; they let me know it’s working! ‘Course I’d rather not have them in the first place.
11. My dad. Even when he walks behind me and tries to trip me because “I should always be on my toes,” and *even* when I wind up on my ass. I love his stories about serial killers, pimps, cracked-out junkies trying to strangle the life out of him and stuff. Oh, and Christmas morning at 4 am because he had to go and catch those jackasses at 5 am. Maybe if you hadn’t come up with that whole crime issue, we wouldn’t need that whole scenario. But, hey! The salary paid for my Commodore 64.
12. Flight of the Conchords. I know, I know. You didn’t really do that, either, but they help every day in “that moment.” You know, that moment when I’m driving down the toll road away from work, crying like a banshee. It’s right around that third little “beeeeeep” noise that lets me know my toll-road pass is, like my massage technique, working. Every day, I hit that third level of despair and every day FOTC makes me laugh and dump out that packet of anthrax I picked up from that scientist on campus. FOTC saves lives, God. So does my iPhone “shuffle” function. See #7.
13. The lively people in my neighborhood. Just the other night, in true Theda’s-neighborhood fashion, I was awakened by an entertaining dialogue between a woman and what was (presumably) her boyfriend. “OMFG I HATE YOU YOU ASSHOLE AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH”……followed by the sounds of a car driving and stopping, driving and stopping, as the woman jumped in front of the car and he yelled “Get the fuck off my car!” Truly, one cannot make that shit up. Unless they’re you, I guess. So, thanks for the free entertainment at 2 am!
14. Avocados. And spell check.
15. Those little plastic doggie-poop bags I use when I walk my dog. It sucks that I have to carry it around the neighborhood, though. The other day, I waved at the neighbor and they looked puzzled. It was then that I realized I have actually waved using the poop-bag hand. I basically shook my shit at them. I’m sure the neighbor is thankful for shit-bags, too.
16. Genitalia. Not only are they the mother lode for comedians, they have distinct purposes. After about age 13, there’s no guessing anymore……unless one is stuck in that abstinence-only type of education. Then, it’ll be multiple choice. And unless you’re intersexed, making it far more interesting…..and painful.
And you know that amazing friend who was born intersexed? He really could have used that people-upgrade thingie because people are close-minded binaristic-thinking assholes that caused him all that pain and junk. And for that dude that drugged him and raped him. Yeah, I guess that was Satan, right? Riiiiiiiight.
17. Xanax. Was there ever a greater thing to be thankful for? Not even the tree of life, which you took from us, anyway. But still! Benzos make life better, and Xanax is so well-behaved. She is a model medication. Now, if anxiety had just never been an A-Ha Erlebnis for you. I mean, some say it was only about 5,000 years ago. Not like you’ve had time to revise.
18. Revelations. Whoo-boy! Now, that’s pretty scary. Move over, Exorcist, now there’s something older! Honestly, it’s a postmodern work of genius. Only, not postmodern. Knives in the mouth, I think, is really just a projection for your own, unresolved issues. Deutoronomy? WTF? And Psalm 137:9? Man, oh man.
Luke 22:36 is kind of weird, too. Sell my cloak and buy a sword? Dude, my cloak is, like, +50 million intelligence or something and I’m a mage; I can’t even carry a sword.
19. The semicolon! But not the exclamation point. I use it, and then I feel great shame.
20. For Wordsmoker listicles. LOVE THEM.