Everyone tells me God doesn’t give people anymore than they can handle. And I believe in God so I’ve always believed that’s true. Well you know what? Uncle. I can’t handle anymore right now god, I’m just about fucking done ok? There’s only so much I can carry before I buckle and fall, buried below the weight of it all. I know you’re god and you have all these children to look after, but I’m just me, human, fallible me. And I can’t do it anymore and I beg you to please stop putting more on top of me and let me rest. I mean, you’re immortal, you have powers. What do I have besides chin hairs, a muffin top, and a wine problem? I don’t have any more resources. I’m as dry as a 90 year old nun’s vagina.
Shit, you’re gonna hold that against me aren’t you? I take it back, just pick someone else for a while. Please? I’ll eat matzah all during passover without complaining about constipation. I promise. Maybe.