Incurring the Wrath of an Angry God
That reminds me.
Now that I’m back in L.A., did I remember to incur the wrath of an angry and jealous God?
I’m talking fires. Mudslides. Earthquakes. John Mayer douche-face. Surely the God of Abraham, Isaac Mizrahi and Marc Jacobs has had quite enough of civilization’s indulgences.
The Big Kahuna in the sky sees this pic and toys with the notion of a second flood. And can we blame him?
Or, like Lot before me, can I appeal to God’s appreciation for boobie hottie suckle thigh? Can I save Los Angeles from the the spreading dangers of Paris Hilton petri crotch, Jeremy Piven’s toupee achieving self awareness and starting WWIII, and Mylie Cyrus’s achy breaky future role as the leader of Generation Zombieland?
Yup. I’m makin’ no sense. I’m gettin’ a coffee.
