Veni, Vidi, Ventus --
The randomly chaotic and crafty scribblings of a deranged, wannabe artist allowed too many colours in her Crayon box.

Surgeon General's Warning: Some content of "From Pooka's Crayon" may not be suitable for: work, blue-haired little old ladies, the politically-correct, rabid moonbats, uptight mothers, priests, chronic idiots, insurance claims agents, Democrats, children, small furry quadropeds from Alpha Centauri, or your sanity.

Tuesday, April 23, 2002

Hello, God?

"Um, hello? Is this thing on?"

"Great. Um. So. Okay. I'd like to have a few words with whoever is in charge, if you don't mind."

"Well, yes, I suppose God really is a busy being, what with the state of the world as it is and all, but couldn't he just take a few minutes to talk with a dissatisfied customer?"

"No, no, I understand that, but you see, the complaint box has a waiting line about a mile long and there's a complaint box for the complaint ... what?"

"No, I'm really not trying to be a wiseass. Yes, I realize that you're just doing your job. No, wait, don't put me on ..."

"... hold. Right. 'Stairway to Heaven,' the Muzak version. Maybe I misdialed the phone number or asked for the wrong extension, because I don't *think* that horror could be associated with ..."

"Yes, I'm sure you thank me for holding. Yes, I'm sure my time is valuable and you appreciate me as a customer. Yes, I'm sure that when I get so frustrated and go running screaming down the street totally naked that ..."

"Oh. You're back. No, of course I didn't mind waiting, I truly enjoyed having enfeebled Zepplin horking at my ear drums."

"Okay, look, I'm not asking for all that much, I just want a few short moments ... no, wait, don't transfer me to another ..."

"...extension. Sigh. Oh sweet merciful Lord, no! Not ... not ... John Tesh! Aaaargggh! All right, who's the feckin wise guy that ...."

"Yes? Oh. It's You."


"Oh. What did I want?"

"Well, I know you're really very busy and all ... but can I call a Do-Over?"

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