St. Peter took me aside and informed me the only way I was getting into heaven was to write God's blog. God had no time. But He was concerned about the downturn in church attendance and felt a blog would stir up interest. While I was alive they read my rants on margarine and were impressed.
The rules were simple: God does not want sponsorship, except Red Bull. Four blogs a week, 1200 words each, nothing about Port-o-johns, which embarrass him. Also no mention of Spam or the Pittsburgh Pirates. And make it sound like God is happy. No one will read a whining deity.
Try to give Him a sharp wit. No knock-knock jokes.
William F. Buckley would be proof reading my stuff. All he does is consume cocktails anyway, St. Peter revealed.
What could I say? Choosing me over Norman Mailer and John Updike was an honor. So here I am preparing God's first blog. I'm thinking comments about moisturizer and Speedos. Better believe Satan will come up.
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