It's a lot like watching a greyhound race.
Yes, that sounds right.
A greyhound race sounds just about perfect.
Thin muscular dogs racing for their lives. 
It really is a bloody shame,
At the end, they will be turned into glue anyway.

Perhaps this is what God really is:
Glue.
It is fluid, and sometimes transparent.
But ususally it's bright white,
Like that cheap crap you but at the dollar store.

Well, that must linger on his conscience. 

Yet, this sounds odd.
I thought that this... vivid... description
Had to be false.
Does God not wear a white toga,
Laughing with Jesus and Hitler while enjoying the wine,
And perhaps sharing a rare good story?

Now, for the point of clarification,
Hitler is not Jesus.
Jesus was not Hitler.
And I am pretty sure they were both Canadian. 

You can blame socialism for anything these days.

But we are not here to talk about Stalin,
That happy bartender,
Sure the Kool Aid tastes like Vodka,
But do you know how many Russian children died
To make that popular aphrodisiac?
And if not children, a badger must have been involved.
Or perhaps that crazy old drunk lady down the street.

Speaking of cranky old women,
Did anyone here what that crazy Renaissance thinker was talking about?
I saw him at a bar last Tuesday.
His face looked like something out of a Robert Frost poem,
If dear old Frosty happened to be yielding a shovel.

"I god the hell kicked out of me by a martini glass last night."
"Interesting. So, who won?"
"Well, the martini glass of course."

This is why Jesus was always to young to drink.
Five bottles of Guinness, and the next thing you know
He's nailed to a cross.
But, they do that to thinkers a lot these days.

So, in conclusion:
Jesus beat the hell out of me with a badger.
The problem was that the animal was yielding a cross.
Old ladies tend to buy drinks,
But only to philosiphers who tell people
That believing in God is a safe bet.
Tale that at your local bar and smoke it.

Just remember that God always smokes best when he is Unfiltered.