I met God today. I wouldn’t say he was ugly, but he certainly wasn’t attractive. He was wearing a T-shirt with a wolf howling on it. And it was tucked into his jeans.
Heaven’s OK. Everyone was just playing Jacks. The most Jesus could get was twosies. I felt bad for the guy, you know, having died brutally for our sins only to go to Heaven and play Jacks. But I kinda think “Good, I’m glad he got crucified”, because he’s a poor loser. And I just can’t stand poor losers.
What Ryan's listening to: "Death" by White Lies
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