Interview with God
The Big Man
Me: God, thanks for taking the time to speak with Coddle Pot.
God: No problem.
Me: We know you’re busy.
God: Hmmm? Oh…yeah, sure.
Me: Although you can probably be everywhere at once?
God: Nope.
Me: But The bible says…
God: I wouldn’t go believing too much from The Bible.
Me: Well what can you do?
God: This.
Me: What? Nothing happened.
God: Look closely.
Me: Oh, wow. Your stubble.
God: Yep, gone. Didn’t even need a razor.
Me: Impressive. Anything else?
God: I can bring back the stubble. Want to see?
Me: Eh, maybe later.
Jesus: Hi Dad.
God: Huh? Oh, it’s you.
Jesus: Who’s this dork?
God: Ah, he writes for some Mickey Mouse website down on the rock.
Jesus: What the hell’s he doing here?
God: Don’t know. Some kind of out of body experience. I think he’s choking on a peanut M & M.
Me: Nice to meet you.
Jesus: Woah, no touchy, no touchy. Jesus no like to be touched.
Me: Fair enough.
Jesus: Ok if I go over to Judas’ gaff?
God: I don’t trust that jerk.
Jesus: Because of the thing? That was like, two thousand years ago Dad.
God: So? I’m a squillion years old.
Jesus: Well we buried the hatchet. Besides, he wants to talk to me about some investment thing. He brought nine other people in on it, and made a killing. If I bring my own nine in, I make a killing too.
Me: A pyramid scheme.
Jesus: A what?
Me: It sounds like a pyramid scheme.
Jesus: So?
Me: It’s a scam.
God: He’s right, it’s a scam. You didn’t give him any money, did you?
Jesus: Eh…no…no, I’ll catch you guys later.
Me: Bye Jesus.
Uncanny God look-alike
Me: Can I begin the interview by saying, artists’ impressions of you have been way off.
God: I know…
Me: Red hair? I’d never have thought it.
God: …people are always surprised by that.
Me: You look remarkably like Mick Hucknall.
God: Ok, let’s move on.
Me: I mean, a little pudgier than Mick, but…
God: Easy there, tiger. You’re no waif yourself.
Me: Can’t you just magic away that pot belly, like the stubble?
God: I could magic away your penis? How’d that be?
Me: Ok, calm down, calm down.
Me: First question. What is the one true faith?
God: They’re all good.
Me: But if you had to choose one?
God: I like scientology. Those guys are pretty close to the truth.
Me: I knew it. And Tom Cruise?
God: Jesus 2.
Me: I God damned knew it. How does it work out for him?
God: Same as Jesus 1.
Me: Crucifixion?
God: Yep.
Me: In this day and age?
God: Yep. It’ll be a first for Beverly Hills, but that’s rowdy mobs for you.
Me: Mary. Virgin?
God: What are you, a child?
Me: But The Bible says…
God: What did I tell you about paying attention to that book?
Me: So you did?
God: Nail her? Yeah, but she’ll never admit it.
Me: Because you look like Mick Hucknall?
God: One more. Just one more Hucknall joke. See what happens.
Me: How are things between you and Joseph?
God: You know, it’s awkward. That’s a very delicate, awkward situation.
Me: The Bible never fully deals with that whole, menage de trios.
God: I like Joseph, you know? But she needs to make a choice, instead of playing us off against each other.
Me: Your biggest mistake?
God: Probably Chris DeBurgh.
Me: What happened man?
God: Ah, it’s a long story. I just wasn’t at the races that day. I had a lot on my mind, and herself indoors was piping up with the whole immaculate conception thing. I blew it. I hold my hands up. I blew it.
Me: It’s just, the world has suffered much from DeBurgh.
God: I know, I screwed up. I apologise. I’m trying to make it up to people.
Me: How?
God: Global warming.
Me: Global warming? That’s you?
God: Yeah. Thought I’d give everyone a bit of a toasty spell.
Me: Aw man, they’re hysterical over that sh*t down there. Everyone’s blaming CO2.
God: CO2? The stuff you exhale? For Jaysus’ sake. I’m thinking it might be time for another flood.
Me: Was Darwin right about evolution, or did you create all life?
God: Yes and no.
Me: Surely it’s one or the other?
God: Well, I created a flock of ducks.
Me: Ducks?
God: Yes.
Me: And then what?
God: And that’s it.
Me: What? We’re all evolved from ducks?
God: That’s about the size of it.
Me: Jesus.
God: What?
Me: I don’t know. It’s disappointing, I guess. To be descendant from ducks.
God: Darwin said you’re descendant from single-celled organisms. How is that better?
Me: I don’t know, but it is. Better than a poxy quack factory.
Me: Some rapid fire questions. Did Lord Lucan kill that woman?
God: Yes.
Me: Did the IRA shoot Shergar?
God: Yes.
Me: Will machines eventually turn on their human masters and try to enslave humanity?
God: Yes.
Me: When?
God: 2012.
Me: Will they succeed?
God: No. You’ll just plug them out.
Me: What is the meaning of life?
God: To convert food into poo.
Me: Really? That’s it?
God: As I designed it, yes. I thought it would be funny.
Me: Was it?
God: Not really. Maybe in the beginning.
Me: Doesn’t seem funny to me.
God: I guess you had to be there.
Me: Man. That’s even more disappointing than the duck thing.
God: You complain a lot. This interview is over.
I knew it, I knew Chris de Burgh was Gods biggest mistake. He has been the cause of all human misery through out the ages. The Crusades, the Dark ages, the Nazis, Ireland AM….all caused by the simple misinterpretation of De Burghs bastard songs. Then he had the cheek to crawl out of his vile cesspool and impregnate a human female, creating former miss Ireland and known cow mutilator, Rosanna Davison. Once, as a child, I rode my bike through the shadow of dark De Burgh castle. I was immediately struck down with Bubonic plague, Swine Flu and Chlamydia. If it hadnt been for the presence of a priest, who was out picking young nettles to make soup for orphans, I would surely have died. Even speaking of the beast is unlucky so quickly we deliver the mantra… Keep him Argentina…keep him argentina….keep him argentina.
I’m really gutted. I love gingers and all, but Mick Hucknall is the worst kind of ginger. He barely qualifies, he’s so rancid. Why couldn’t God look like Josh Homme? Or even Nicole Kidman, at a pinch?
Thank God I’m an atheist. Well, not thank God exactly, but … who do atheists thank?
MRB, you are indeed a wise and learned DeBurghian scholar. I presume then that you are aware that there is only one way to kill him: a single blessed arrow, driven into one of his four hearts from the sacred crossbow of Babylon, followed by a ferocious beating with some manner of lead pipe.
The prophesy foretold of one who would come to free us. Could you be ‘The One’?
Atheists thank Darwin Sweary. Or at a stretch, The Flying Spaghetti Monster.
I’ll admit, it is a disappointment to learn that God made Mick Hucknall in his own image, more than anyone else. I’d even have taken Brendan Gleeson from the realm of Fanta.
heh mick hucknall……I mean that’s all I have to add to this debate……
I believe Hucknall, whilst not God himself, was bestowed with super powers. Reportedly, he can outrun a fattish Ostrich, and can communicate with porpoises using a crude language of clicking noises.
You forgot to ask Him about Dan Brown…
I did ask Swe.Ge, but he would only answer off the record, and became extremely shifty. For example, when I broached The Priory of Sion, he replied ‘Who?’, and denied having ever heard of them.
When I asked how that could be possible, given his omniscience, he grabbed me by the throat and said, “I’m telling you man, walk away from this one. Just walk away.” He also went on to refer to Leonardo DaVinci as ‘a squealer’ and ‘a snitch’.
Read from this what you will Swe.Ge, but it sounds to me that Dan Brown might be barking up the right tree.
You should have asked him what football team he supports. Bet it’s Man U. If I wasn’t already an atheist that would do it for me.
He was cagey about his football allegiances Daphne. I get the feeling he floated around a bit, attaching himself to whomever was showing signs of challenging that year. Put it this way: he was wearing a Man UTD shirt that was reversible into a Man City shirt.
This was great!
I can’t take credit White Rabbit. God did all the work, really.
Hi Flann
Can you settle an argument for me? Did you notice what Jesus was driving?
Thanks
Martin
Certainly Martin. I believe he had a Vespa out front, but I get the feeling he didn’t use it much, on account of his ability to simply ‘appear’ wherever he wants. Then again, I picked up on some tension between himself and God, specifically around the former’s propensity for appearing in women’s showers.
Hola Flann!
I will not dignify this travesty with a comment.
Besos
Manuel
Tom Cruise as Jesus 2? I’m pretty sure Jesus 1 never would’ve starred in a movie as bad as Valkyrie.
I heard it was lord Lucan who shot Shergar just after he joined the IRA, he is also responsible for using his English accent to tell the Paras to ‘open fire’ on Bloody Sunday. If ya can’t shoot a load of bogsiders in Londonderry without getting into trouble then what is the point?
Yes I did use the correct Londonderry name, excuse me while I hock up a Lurgan, thats better.
God won’t be winning any parent of the year awards its no wonder that Jeebus hangs out with lucifer so much. Diet without a cause.
That would be ‘deity’ without a cause I’m mixing meds today.
Manuel, just because he didn’t mention you by name, does not mean that the Spanish are not the chosen people.
Hey Minnow, I have to pick you up on that. Jesus 1 had cameos in every installment of The Wilogy*
* – Free Willy Trilogy.
Hey Knudsen, give God’s parenting skills a break. He’s doing his best, but Jeebus is a handful. When he’s not parting the water in the jacks, causing havoc with the plumbing, he’s getting arrested by the Angel Squad for his fishes and loaves scam.
Scientology Flann, validation on Coddle pot, validation at last, Ron rocks. Did God mention anything about the transubstantiation gig, I mean does it hurt much when he/she morphs and also, the unpredictible weather, what’s that all about?
Are you going to Andrea’s wedding? ( or did it happen already !)
When I mentioned transubstantiation Sniffle, he said “look over there” and pointed to my left. I looked to my left, and when I returned my gaze to its original orientation, the Big Fella was nowhere to be seen.
He returned an hour later, but every time I tried to broach transubstantiation, the pattern repeated.