God Smacked

I’m sure I’ve talked about this particular topic before, or at least something in the ‘holy’ field. This blog is more a focus on why God ‘hym’self (terrible pun, I know) hates me. Now, I personally do not believe in the word hate. It is too strong a word. I prefer to use the term strongly dislike … However, God fucking hates me, and the Lord Almighty definitely has a vendetta on my ass.

Lets go back into my childhood. I’ve mentioned before in previous blogs how during the summers I was shipped away like an African child sold in the black market (pun intended) to my grandma. I went to her church every Sunday during those summers. Our pastor at the time loved puppets. I don’t know if he was an actual puppeteer or if it was a technique his psychologist taught him, but either way this pedo-pastor always talked to me and my other protestant acquaintances through the asses of a puppets. (Who thought finger-banging puppets was God’s way of communication?)


Hearing the Bible read to you through a puppet does not make the stories more kid friendly. Our pastor’s favourite story was Cane and Able. For this story he would use two puppets and act it out, sometimes he would even go so far as to asking for volunteers to act out the horrific bumfuck mountain story. Sorry dude, sodomy is not in my books, and shouldn’t be in God’s book either, you sick fuck. Those poor puppets.


Now, I’m sure many of you have heard the saying “God loves all his children.” Um, lets get a few things straight.

  1. I was only a child for 19 years of my life, since then I’ve sprouted boobies and drink firewater like no tomorrow.
  2. I’m not God’s child. I was the offspring of one big ass Indian and a little white lady.
  3. If God loved all his children why is their so much tragedy in the world. If God supposedly really loves all his children why do we have things like; periods, sloths and Lance Bass.

Honestly, I’m starting to think the douche strongly dislikes me because I let the alter boy diddle me or maybe its because I didn’t let my pastor drop a digit on me with or without his puppet(s). I mean, come on folks, I was born native. Now, I love being Ojibway, I love that it is a part of my life, love the food, love the men, love the dances etc. But lets be honest here. God and his followers haven’t been so kind to my people. On top of that, the bastard further damns us by having every native person in some way related to one another. I will never be able to bump my naughty bits against a native man. Chances are he is my cousin. EVER SICK! (I’ve kissed a cousin once, but that is another story).


I love my firewater. Love it, love it, love it! However, every time I wake up with gut rot and my head pounding I want to go to church. God takes advantage of my vulnerable state! (Not cool God, so not cool).

On another note, fuck you God! I was baptized and yet you still persistently plop your Lordy folk at every skytrain station, bus stop, store front handing out pamplets of… well…

22 J Returns To God.

You are better off placing your religious Nazi’s on the corners with hookers and pimps, that way they could actually make an honest living. Plus I’m sure they could teach your people a thing or two about God.


Cait Out!



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