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Are you there God? It’s me, Keith. Something strange happened today. Since I’m such a blubbering vagina, I actually got my period. That’s right, God. I have literally metamorphosed into a female sexual organ capable of shedding its uterine lining on a monthly basis. At first I was so scared, but then I realized that since I normally act like a prepubescent girl, this just feels right.

God, it’s me again, Keith, and I hate my cleaning lady so much. My mom always makes me handmade sweaters with labels inside that say ‘made just for you,’ and I deserve that because I am so special. Well my cleaning lady shrunk one of them, and I’m going to make her pay. I hope she can feed her five kids from a dumpster because she’s officially fired.

God, something unbelievable happened today. I didn’t get my way and when I threw a little screaming fit, no one listened. I even held my breath until I turned blue and pretended to pass out. Why won’t these stupid hicks listen to me?

Dear Keith, it’s me, God. Please stop praying to me. I normally take a pretty hands-off approach with you talking monkeys, but even I’m tired of your bitching. If you pray to me one more time, I’m going to force Al Gore to form a network no one will watch and make you work for him. More people will watch women’s basketball than your show. Fuck with me again and see what happens.

——On a related note, I bet my wife I could go an entire family gathering without using profanity, and if I lost I had to read Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume, and do a book report on it. Ask me if I won or not.