God was a lazy b*****

{Designed originally to be read by Fred on an earlier speech synthesizer on a Mac}

God was a lazy bugger. They all knew that, but it rarely got mentioned in casual conversation. This was a serious conversation.

“Well, what else de u ‘expeck of a tenant farmer, wiv absentee landlords?”

“Ah dunno,” replied annuvver rough voice, “but ‘ow do u figger dat?”

“Well, he didnah make this place!”

“Ooo did then?”

“‘ ‘e don’t no, he cum wit de furnyture.”

“Wat furneeture? I dont see nun!”

“De firmmamenty ting. Quarks n stars and udder stuff.”

“Oh dem!!”

“Yeah, well eez juss the same, and he ain’t got a clue wotz goin on.”

“Ee donta look like a star       –      yer cant even zee im!!”

“Corse NOT – eez a distibbuted ‘telligence.

“A wot?”

“All smeerd out in spaze & tyme.””

“Ee muss luke a mess!”

“Ee doo.”

“‘Ow doo yer no dat, if yer cana c im?”


“Is it?”

“Yer seen dem stringy bits floatin about ??”

“Like sfagetti do yer mean??”

“Yer catchin on fast – yep – dem’s spare bits of im.”

“How cum?”

“Dee 11 dimensional printer got stuck on “duplicate” –  dinnit?

“Hey up – ow do YOU no zats bits of im???”

“Well – lets say u dunna mess wit dem strings . . . ”

“Ahhh,  stinging strings !!  I fought dem was from sexploshun at de Chinese on the corner !! Ere, if eez evrywer all de tyme, den ahh can c why ee never do nuthin.  Ahh mean, eez seen it all asn’t ee?  an wud ee av enuf tyme?”

“‘Ee is tyme ….      Spaze 2.”

“So wotz ee sposed 2 doo?”

“Report 2 de Masters n not muddle about.”

“Sounds eezy, ah cud do dat”

“Yeah, but dey only want de BIG picture, weez too small beer for dem. But ee do muddle about!”

“Well if ee don’t tell its OK.”

“Nah – dey read ‘is foughts.”

“Ohhh oh. So ow do ee muddle about?”

“Ee Hignores ’em”


“Dem brainy fings”

“Ohh, Yer mean like me.”

“Dont b daft, wiv reel brains.”

“If eez hignored dem, howz ee muddled wiv em?”

“Ee giv em free will.”

“Oh yer mean dat weirdo round de corner?”

“NO !!  Dey can do anyfing dey wan.”

“Den he don’t av to bovver wiv em?”

“Right on. Datz why eez a lazy bugger!”

“Sounds like a goode plan ter me.”

“Yeah, but dem Masters, deys rite mad wit him!”

“Whys dat?

“Well fings wen rong abit, didn’t dey?

“Wadya mean? Ders seven billion of dem now!”

“Itz not dat. Wen der Masters maid life, free will wer no problem.”

“So why is it now?”

“Free will was no problAymo when they waz juss bitz o rok or a cell or two. ”

“But dey got bigger?”

“Sure dey did. As dey gotten gibbar and biggar he sez ‘ahhm not wastin tyme directin all dem jiggers’, so he flipt de free vill switch. But now dez dem ‘uman tingies!!!”

“De no problAymos got bigger. An free will got bigger 2?”

“Right on. De Masters ad ter cum down in a pertend starship wiv angels an tablets to tell em wotz wot. God wudna fit in a starship so he ad to cum down in a big cloud, outta site!”

“Wot waz whot?”

“The wot or de whot?”

“De ole caboodle.”

“He send is sun down ‘pertendin he wer like dem 2 sortem out. Corse, ee as no sun. Jesus were juss an hollowgram.”

“Dat do no good?”

“Naw. He waz skittzo! – God and dem at same tyme. Dey did im away.



“Masters n God no so brite eh??”

“Dey sez buggerit, dale probly go nukelear in a cuple of K, an den no problAymo again.”

“Dez still ear dough!!”

“Yep der dam free will buggered it up again!!”


“Sorta. Dey got all clever fast! Now dez ALL got tablets, and dez buggerin up de planet summit hawful, and dayll av to leave soon, and den dayll get nowhere and be caput. All sorted.”

“Rough!! Can’t God use Social Media?”

“Naw, he cant’ fit message into Twitter. Ee can’t fit in Instagram. Southern Baptists piss all over him on Facebook – call im a bloody commy! Heez not linked in to anyone so he giv up.”

“Ah. So datz it?”

“Pretty much!!’

“Vell I’ll finish me beer, go ome, an watch “Star Trek.””

All of which shows its amazing what you can hear in a bar.


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