8. A visitor

I woke up that next morning as I often did: Wondering what god would make wine feel so good on the night of, but so bad on the morning after. It just ain’t right.

I decided that I would have a look at the analytics for my blog. Logged in, waited. Holy shit! That can’t be right!

Like I said, I’ve had some popular blogs in the past, but this one was through the frigging roof! It’s like people had figured out I was sharing something of importance, and EVERYONE wanted to read it. I hadn’t even done anything to promote it yet. I decided to at least add a “Donate” button. It seems a shame to not be making ANY money from all those readers. And Donate makes it sound like they’re not contributing to the purchase of more wine!

I had just finished adding the button, when there was a knock at the door. I answered in my boxers. It was a familiar-looking guy in a clerical collar. He looked me up and down and said, “Paul? You were asking me recently about questions for an interview with The Almighty”.

My brain finally clicked into gear. “Yes! I remember. I believe you told me not to waste your time with blasphemy. What do you want?”

Father Asshole shifted uncomfortably. “Could I come in?”

“Oh please do.” I turned toward my living room and flopped on my couch, without offering him a seat. He took one anyway, of course.

“The Bishop caught word of your … interviews. They are causing a … disturbance.”

This guy was pissing me off. “Listen … Father! I’m writing it as it happens. I don’t give a fiddler’s fuck if it causes a disturbance. Now what does your Bishop want?”

“There is no need for obscenity.”

“Last I checked, there is no place in the bible that says ‘Thou shalt not say Fuck’. I’m hung over, and you’re annoying me. Now … WHAT does your Bishop want?”

“He would like to propose that you meet with him to discuss each entry before you post it. He could help you to correct the factual discrepancies.”

“Pardon me, Father, but isn’t your god supposed to be infallible? How can there be ‘factual discrepancies’?”

“Perhaps you’re not understanding the word of the Lord? Surely it can’t be easy.”

I decided to hold back on my impulse to slap this little bitch sillier. Speaking very succinctly, “You and Your Bishop have obviously never spoken to the man. Please close the door when you leave.”

And he did, thank God.