During a recent session of drunken introspection, I realised that although I considered myself happy in life and love, I was not doing nearly enough grovelling and pleading to imaginary beings. This thought was not a new one, it had been suggested to me on multiple occasions by Father FuckFace (I've concealed his real name out of privacy and respect) who proclaimed with great enthusiasm how much prayer had helped all the people he knew, including himself.
 Unfortunately, prayer didn't help Father FuckFace keep his wiener in his pants, and he is currently serving twelve years for statutory rape, but I decided I would give prayer a shot anyway, and began a month long experiment with begging for stuff instead of working for it.
  Now, I'm not quite sure how this prayer thing works because I've never tried it before, I usually have better things to do, like clip my nails or burn a Quran, so I went to YouTube to see how it was done. Unfortunately, I didn't get very far with the videos because watching old men with bad toupees blather on about God gets a little boring after awhile. I did however, come across a hilarious video of a guy putting his tongue in a Venus fly trap, which made up for all that nonsense about God.
  First, I needed to pick a certain time of day and area of my home to pray, this would, I hoped, provided me with consistency which would eventually turn into habit. I remember the bible saying something about praying in a closet, but that's where I keep my golf clubs, so instead I decided to pray each night before bed in a nice warm bath while watching old episodes of Fear Factor on my Ipad.
  From what I understand, most people ask for assistance regarding friends and family when they pray, or they ask God to watch over the less fortunate people who worship the wrong sky monkey.
 Considering I'm always seeing earthquakes and tsunamis killing people on the news, and children of the religious still get cancer in their eyeballs, I figured these were not the type of prayers God was interested in, so I decided to go a different route.
  The night before I started my prayer routine, I snuck into my neighbours garage to "borrow" his hammer, with full intentions of returning it when I was finished, in the very distant future. To my shock, several hours later I began to feel guilty about not informing my neighbour about his missing property. With this guilt in mind, I prayed to God for his forgiveness and promised never to do it again, which was a lie, but how would he know that.
  To my complete surprise, the next morning my guilt had vanished like Bruce Jenner's penis. Could the reason for this have been God's intervention? Did he forgive my deception and remove the admittedly small burden of guilt I was feeling? If so, what else could I do and not have to worry about my conscience wagging it's judgmental finger at me?
  To test this, I decided to walk through the mall pushing unsuspecting shoppers into cell phone kiosk's, and popping the balloons of small children. With each baby I made cry, I mumbled a quick prayer about being sorry and never doing it again, which immediately made me feel better about being such an ass. Prayer was starting to sound like a pretty good idea.
  The next day I went out with friends to a local night club. Before I left I jump into a bath and toss out a quick prayer to God about keeping me safe during my night of debauchery and excess. Oddly enough, my request to God made me feel invincible. I knew that my first answered prayers may have been nothing more than coincidence, but it still gave me a sense of security which allowed me to let loose like never before.
  I drank far too much, but still made it home safe and sound with nothing negative to report, except for the human finger I found in my coat pocket. Although the finger wasn't mine, my compassion for my fellow man is such that I felt slightly worried about the person whom it belonged to. The wedding ring on it was beautifully adorned with an inscription that read, "Love Always, Kerry," and I assumed the person who lost it probably wanted it back, and maybe the finger too.
  For a quick moment, I deliberated over weather or not to track down the individual that owned the ring, but I chose instead to pawn it for beer money and throw the finger away. Once again the guilt appeared, and once again, I prayed it away.
  I was beginning to understand why people prayed. Any misdeeds you commit can be pawned off on God, who, by his very nature, must forgive you. This is so much more convenient then actually making amends to the person who's hammer you stole or finger you cut off. Living with guilt sucks, but actually doing something about it sucks even more. Using a magic sky monkey who tells you not to worry about it, frees you up to enjoy all the sinful delights in life, yet still go to heaven when God decides to kill you.
  I still pray, but only when I'm feeling guilty about some silly car I stole or cheque I ran out on, otherwise what's the point. It's not even God I pray to anymore. I've found that you can ask anybody you want for forgiveness since it's just yourself your asking, and yourself whose answering.
 I've chosen to Pray to Joe Pesci just like George Carlin suggested, and you know what? It works every time.

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Comment by TJ on July 13, 2016 at 1:20pm

Just pray to Carlin and cut out the middle man,

PS - You're a funny dude.


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