God Explains The Wild Card Round

01.07.09 9 years ago 27 Comments

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 Round 1 of the NFL playoffs happen as they did.

Before I get to this week’s games, I want to address the issue of Kurt Warner trying to draw Me…

Excuse me, Kurt. Would you mind if I go just right ahead and direct you to the Second Commandment. You know, the one I wrote…

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above…

See that “heaven above” language right there? That me means Me. I’m from heaven. I built the damn place. YOU DON’T FUCKING DRAW ME, MOTHERFUCKER! I WILL NOW GIVE YOUR FUCKING FAMILY CANCER!

/gives family cancer

These fucking people… they claim to live by Me, and then they go and just doodle Me (badly, I might add), as if it’s nothing. As if they aren’t VIOLATING ONE OF THE MOST FUNDAMENTAL TENETS OF MY HEAVENLY LAW. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

I don’t like it when people try to draw Me. They never get it right. They always fuck up the nose. I have a good nose. I don’t have one of those fucked up Owen Wilson noses. Besides, I can take on many various forms. Sometimes I look like a human being. Other times, I like to turn myself into fine mist and then sneak into ladies’ bedrooms when they’re fingering the honeypot. That’s some solid misting, right there.

Other times, I like to take the form of a cloud. Why? NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, THAT‘S WHY. I also enjoy taking the form of a very bright white light. That’s a classic one. And at night? That’s wolfie time.

Didn’t think God was a lycanthrope, did you? Well, I am. Sometimes, I like to turn into a wolf. Then I run into the forest, find a six-point buck, and then rip its throat right out. BAM! NATURAL SELECTION THERE, BUCKY! MY SELECTION! YOU GOT SERVED.

You know who it’s fun to turn into from time to time? Dylan McDermott. You should see the looks I get on the street when I turn into that guy. I bet he’s just drowning in pussy. Good stuff.

Anyway, it bears repeating, DON’T DRAW ME. And since you, Kurt Warner, have crossed Me once more, I assure you Deangelo Williams and the Panthers will tear you a new Godhole come Saturday night. Fuckhead. Enjoy the loss. And the cancer.

Last week, I allowed the Ravens to beat the Dolphins because the city of Miami is a den of sin and sodomy. Sometimes I turn on the Godscope and point it a Miami, and I swear I have no clue what I’m looking at. Are those three Cuban men fucking in that alleyway? Four? Why is there a Chihuahua there? Why are they smearing bananas on each other? Yuck. Not cool.

I also allowed the Chargers to beat the Colts. A lot of people might think I like Tony Dungy, since he worships Me and all. Well, to be frank, I think he’s stealing a bit of My thunder. I get it, people. Tony Dungy is a swell guy. But you don’t praise him. You praise ME. STOP STEALING MY THUNDER, TONY DUNGY! ONLY I KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT!


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