Dear Jesus

Dear Jesus,

First off, I would like to say/ask who the fuck are you? Just because you were nailed to a cross you think you are Mr. Holy Hot Shot! Seriously? Come on now! I would rather praise the man who fucked the monkey before I kiss the feet of a man who was born from a lady who either was an A-sexual Sponge or who was A WHORE.… ahem, not a virgin. Everybody should know by now miracles don’t happen. If they did we would all be on ecstasy, our entire lives would be non stop orgasms and life would be a never ending drum circle.

I may have never finished reading The Bible, but that is because I only finish books worth reading (ie-Toilets of the World, How to Tell if Your Cat is Trying to Kill You). That being said,I did my time in church. (BY THE WAY JESUS, tell those religious sacks of assholes to stop shoving your holy shit in my face!)

Every summer since the age of 5, my parental units decided it would be a fun idea to send me to my grandma’s for a whole two months. EVERY SUMMER! This meant every Sunday at 9:15 am we were off to church. I basically went for the wine and bread, and at some point during my time in church our pastor had puppets which he communicated through (not sure what that meant) but nonetheless I enjoyed the puppets. Even though I had wine and bread and puppets to keep my buzz going, it did not fully sate my boredom. I was usually (if not all the time) pissed off because if God rested on the 7th day, why the fuck should we worship the bastard while he’s resting.I don’t praise my man for fucking resting! I praise him for putting the seat down or doing dishes, for actually doing something!!! If I saw God make a mountain or see him part the sea like Moses, HELL even fuck a donkey, then high-fives are definitely in order. You know what, FUCK YOU GOD!  (Sorry Grandma.)

Clearly Jesus, you can see that I am not, in no way, shape or form religious. If I was I would be whipping my self.

Even though I am not on my knees for religious purposes (on my knees for fun purposes), I would like you to know, my parents went to church as kids. Luckily, as when they became parental units they opted out of the steeple pleasing cult. Odd though, come Christmas we would go to midnight mass, we would have Easter brunch and a random pig roast in the summer (not the sinning kind). Also as kids we were baptized. It’s funny how I do not believe in God, but when I have kidlets I would have them baptize, I would celebrate Christmas, Easter and all those ‘God Inspired’ Holidays. Probably with a doobie.

To be honest Jesus, I don’t really know much about you. You are like a one night stand Imagethat never should have happen, mainly because of the crab thing. Those Bible humpers and thumpers, are fucked up. Looking at all these depictions of you, makes you a definite candidate for  Dateline NBC’S: To Catch A Predator.

So you are the Son of God, I’m the daughter of an Indian (feather not the dot). The only enjoyment I get out of you is you slightly resemble Chuck Norris and saying Jesus Christ with a Scottish accent is funny. You died once already why come back to only die again? Well, hold on, actually…tell you what, how ’bout you come back one more time, I give you a well-deserved wedgie and you can die again. Three times a charm.

So Jesus, you are probably wondering why am I writing you this letter. It’s not fan mail you can count your blessed little heart on that. I’m just taking time out of my day to let you know a few things every man who nailed hard wood should know (aside from the fact they might be a fag). 

  • The Bible=Book of fiction and terrible at that.
  • Jehovah’s Witness vs Heavy set woman of colour? Um, I choose the coloured gal any day! Aunt Jemima knows how to keep my floors squeaky clean and that girl can make a tasty pancake.
  • Thank you Jesus! Especially for residential schooling your preacher freaks set up for us. I am now no longer a savage, nor do I speak Native Gibberish  I speak ‘real’ language English.
  • I said it once already and I will say it again! Those religious goons handing out pamphlets need to stop! The last thing I need is a sister shoving holy porn up my nose!

Perhaps Jesus, this is not a letter of hate. or a letter of what you and your drones did wrong. Perhaps this is a letter of appreciation. Thank you for all the hate, despair, wars and false hope. Sure, you are not solely to blame, there are other Gods out there who fucked us over. In fact I’ve blazed with Buddah a few times and on more than one occasion that fucker left my high and dry (but mostly high). 

This all being said.


P.S Go Fuck Yourself Jesus!

P.P.S Excuse my while I go to confession, then possibly masturbate.


3 thoughts on “Dear Jesus

  1. I found this to be a really interesting way of expressing your dislike for religion! I studied religion in my undergrad (not Christianity) and I am a Christian, but I still think that the honesty and poetry of this is so raw! I can’t wait to read more posts!

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