Hello my children. You know, the more that I think about it the more I like the idea of Festivus supplanting Christmas as the official holiday of the winter solstice. Sure, practitioners of this holiday don’t glorify me through song and prayer, but overall it has a lot more going for it than a tree and a fatass with some reindeer. While Frank Costanza’s holiday of choice isn’t steeped in history and tradition like Christmas, but it was the brainchild of a guy who spawned a Seinfeld writer. I’ll take that over some old Roman guys who decided to celebrate my son’s birth in the middle of fucking winter to appease the damn pagans.

That is why I am in favor of erecting Festivus kiosks in cities across America.

In the spirit of the holiday, I’m going to air a few of my grievances before we get to Sunday’s games.

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Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 14 in the NFL happen as they did.

Hello my children. I trust that you enjoyed the bounty of football goodness I provided for this, the 14th week of the NFL season. As the regular season winds down we turn our attention to the holiday season. For Me the holidays are a lonely time when all the love and worship is doled out to Jesus and his ex-boyfriend, Santa. And what do I get? Not a single Me damned thing, that’s what. This is why I’ve always been such a strong proponent of the Secret Santa method of giftology. You see, everyone gets together and picks a name out of a hat, and the name you draw will be the recipient of a special gift. This way everyone gets a piece of the sweet holiday action, and anybody who receives a particularly awesome present is compelled to reciprocate with sexual gratification. Keeping that in mind, let’s get down to some explanations.

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Hello my children. I trust that all of you are all preparing to celebrate the miraculous birth of my divine progeny in a tasteful and understated manner.

Oh come the fuck on! What is wrong with you people? You’re starting to make me think that the atheists are actually smarter than the believers. You people are getting on my last damn nerve, and no, I cannot protect you from terrorists. Terrorism is a machination of man, and it is up to man to stop the terrorists. I’m pretty much useless on this front, so don’t expect me to be watching your back while you’re preaching the good word. Let’s just move on to the explanations of Week 13′s games.

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Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 12 in the NFL happen as they did.

Well, it’s Thanksgiving again. I guess you people consider that a holiday, yes? See, that’s interesting. Because here I thought the point of a holiday was TO WORSHIP ME, YOU UNGRATEFUL SHITS. I created the Earth and the Heavens. The pilgrims sailed a ship into a fucking rock. And you’re telling me they deserve a holiday?

Let me explain to you the point of holidays. It’s right there in the word: holiday. That means HOLY DAY. A day of holiness. That’s God time, baby. You think you can just say some day is a holiday without asking me? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I could wipe you people out with an asteroid just like that. Don’t fucking test me.

I’m tired of these non-God holidays. Labor Day? What is that shit? Well, why don’t you just make every damn day a holiday, why don’t you? “Oooh, let’s make April 12th Monkey Day! Hooray! Let’s not receive mail or have our garbage taken away!” You people listen, and you listen good. You will play by my fucking rules, or I will send you straight to my boy Luc down in Hell. And he does not fuck around. He will play your intestines like a damn harp!

So you want to spend a day being thankful, do you? Okay. All right. Two can play this fucking game. Know what I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving? Oh, that’s right. ME. Giver of light. Bestower of bountiful foods and crops. Yeah, you better thank me when you sit down at that table. Want to thank your wife for making those mashed potatoes? WELL, FUCK YOU. I made those potatoes. AND I made your wife. AND I gave her boobs. I WANT MY MEDAMN CREDIT!

Anyway, onto the week. You know what, Lions of Detroit? I’m sorry, but I really am toying with you. Sorry, Can’t help it. Maybe if the folks in your town could make a fucking car that isn’t a deathly eyesore on the planet I created, I’d be a bit more merciful. I also let two teams score over 50 points this week. Why? Who knows? I’m so MYSTERIOUS! You never know what the fuck I gonna do.

NOW WORSHIP ME AND THANK ME FOR GIVING YOU THAT WORKING PENIS, DICKSMACKS.

Hello, my children. A lot of My most fervent worshipers love to argue against the obvious benefits of stem cell research by asserting that man shouldn’t attempt to play God. Let me tell you, that is some straight bullshit. I put you people on Earth to see what kind of crazy shit you could pull off, so I damn well expect you to aspire to My divine level. So if you need a new windpipe, just make one from scratch! You mortals have been sleeping on this ability for far to long, and it’s time to pick up the pace. Remember, I don’t just miraculously heal people. That’s a job for the Christian Scientist’s god, and to be honest, I’m pretty sure he’s imaginary.

So you Me fearing cockblockers need to ease up on your anti-stem cell stance so that the intelligent people can figure out how do repair knee cartilage a little bit faster. I, and my infallible fantasy team, are counting on you. But don’t do it for me, do it for every running back whose career nosedives at 32. Remember Priest Holmes? Wouldn’t it be cool if he were still awesome? Well I’m holding on to him in My keeper league just in case you people wise up and use what I gave you to make him like new again.

Continue after My blessed jump for an explanation of last week’s more curious outcomes.

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Hello my children. Before I get to explaining the outcomes of this past Sabbath I’d like to address the actions of some of the more retarded worshipers out there on behalf of my favorite prophet. Listen up folks, and listen good, because Moses is up here and he’s smashing everything that isn’t bolted down. You stupid confused assholes need to stop worshiping a false idol. Honestly, I thought we’d been over this before, but now you’re back at it, worshiping a giant golden cow. I mean, are you serious? Don’t you remember what happened the last time you pulled that shit? So cut the crap and stick to worshiping Me, not your precious gold.

Please continue after My holiest of jumps for an explanation of the games that were, along with a quick refresher course on the Ten Commandments.
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Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 9 in the NFL happen as they did.

You know, I hear a lot of you people out there bitching about having to go to church. “Wah wah! Church is boring! I hate getting dressed up! I don’t have to go to church to be a good person!”

Yeah, well no shit, people.

Of course you don’t have to go to church to be a good person, or even a good Christian, or Jew, or Muslim, or whatever other bullshit religion you are. That’s not why I suggest you attend, you morons. The reason I want you to go to church (or temple, or Mosque, or whatever the fuck Me-knows-what shrine you constructed) is because it’s your only chance each week to gather as a medamn COMMUNITY. Okay? I see you people. I see you scurrying about your lives ignoring each other, talking on the phone, sitting in your car, jacking off in the linen closet. It’s like you jackasses go OUT OF THE DAMN WAY not to talk to each other.

Well, pardon my French, but that is fucking bullshit.

The reason I want you to go to church isn’t because I like forcing you to sing songs, or to say all kinds of things about how awesome I am (though I’m not immune to flattery). No, I want you to go to church because I want you to be reminded each week that there’s more to life than just YOU, fucko. I know. Hard to believe.

I hear a lot of middle aged folks out there bitching about how busy they are these days, and how they never get to see their friends anymore. Well guess what, yapcunts? If you all went to church every Sunday, maybe you WOULD see a friend or two. Maybe you’d actually have a chance to connect with your fellow man, and realize that you are part of something fucking BIGGER. Maybe you’d stop playing with your fucking new 3G iPhone for second and bother to say hi to someone. Shithead.

That’s why I want you to go to church. It’s not to see Me. It’s to see everyone else around you. We go through this life, and sometimes we don’t fucking SEE other people. I want you to see people, to connect with them. That way, you’re more likely to, you know, do nice shit for people. And be a good person. And not be such a selfish prick. That’s why I want you to get off your ass Sunday morning. It’s not for My sake. It’s for your own. You insignificant little shits.

More importantly, church is my time to jack it each week. I like to know where the fuck everyone is when I decide to hide behind a cloud and do My godly thing. There’s a reason Indonesia gets torrential downpours every Sunday morning. That’s a big ol’ Godsoon of Lordbutter raining down on those folks. Especially if I’m checking out my trove of Vida Guerra photos. Oh Vida, did I ever get it right when I made your ass. Some days, God brings his motherfucking A game.

As for the NFL, I finally allowed the Bengals of Cincinnati to win this week because I am a just and merciful diety. Also, this one hot chick in the ‘Nati got dressed with her apartment window wide open the other week. And that made for one awesome Sunday morning for me while you were in church. Hooray for Me! You know I can masturbate without using my hands? Admit it. You’re a little jealous.

Yeah, I could have seen her undressing anyway. But even I still get a charge out of a little exhibitionism.

Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 8 in the NFL happen as they did.

Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, I regret to inform you that God could not be with us this week. Actually that’s not correct. Of course He could be with us, I mean, He is God after all. I guess it would be more accurate to say God had better shit to do this week. Mostly he’s just been masturbating. Yep, that’s right, God masturbates. He masturbates just like you do, only he’s way better at it than you could ever imagine. You know how God’s voice makes your head explode? Well if you saw God stroking it your balls would melt and run down your leg forming a puddle at your feet. But I digress.

Joining us in His stead this week is none other than His Son of Sons, Jesus “Hominum Salvator” Christ!

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Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 7 in the NFL happen as they did.
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Many people scoff at the idea that God can control the outcome of sporting events, or that He even cares. But those people are wrong. God does control the games, AND He cares a great deal. Today, He explains why He let the outcomes of Week 6 in the NFL happen as they did.

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