(no subject)

Dear Mr. or Mrs. God:

I apologize.  Obviously, I have spent the last 24 years angering you steadily, and you can no longer let me slide.  I understand.  And may I say, sir or ma'am, that your manner of retribution is extremely clever.  Rather than striking me down or steering a bus into me, you have taken three 12 year old boys, placed them six feet away from me on a night when concentration is key, and directed them to whine.

And moan.

And giggle.

And punch each other.

And complain.

On a constant loop at a volume that makes it seem as if the sound waves have actually found a way to become pointy and stab me directly in the head.

I mean, I expected nothing less from you, God.  I salute you, I really do.  The subtle ways in which you've found to insert the sounds these boys are making directly in my brain at juuuust the right pitch and volume... 

Again, I apologize.  Of course, it's too little, too late, so I'm sure you'll continue having the boys grind their constant commentary into my skull until the sun rises.  But I thought I would apologize nonetheless.  And again... kudos.

Good old God.






ChibiChibi tomorrow.  Come prepared for fun.  This is all I have the energy to say.  

Okgbye.