Jesus wants to know why you won’t return his calls


I had dinner with my neurotic Jesus-loving friend. In the space of the 2.5 hours we hung out, we talked about thong underwear, poop, homosexuality, parenting, husbands, school uniforms and crushes. We can talk about anything and everything, obviously. But then Jesus came to sit down at our table. Gah.

She wanted to know if I’d thought any more about finding him (Him?) or going to church. I told her I hadn’t, but that I had sort of prayed about my dad hoping that he would get a liver. What I left out is that I bring my own weirdness to the table when I do. I always make sure to pray for someone else before I pray for my family or myself. That way if there is a god he doesn’t think I’m a self-centered bitch. This conveniently ignores the fact that if God can hear me pray he probably has a pretty good idea of my intentions. I also left out the fact that white people loving Jesus sort of scares me. It’s always the crazy fuckers who love Jesus, the ones who turn religion into right-wing politics and watch Fox News. So if I ever really did get back on the holy train, I wouldn’t be hanging out with Jesus anyway. Maybe I’m secretly Jewish.


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