So,

On my way to work this morning I was given a granola bar by a nice kid in front of the Porter T Station. I thought he worked for Kellogg's or something and it was all part of some promotional campaign but I was wrong, this granola bar was special.

You see, wrapped around the granola bar was a note informing me that this particular crunchy treat was actually just a daily reminder of how much God loves me. The note also told me I should probably get my ass to church in order to tell God how grateful I am for his daily nut flavored expressions of love.

But why granola, instead of...say...cable TV with the Spice Channel? Or full repayment of my student loans? I mean, I'd honestly be more grateful for something like that. But I guess God works in mysterious ways:

God: Jesus! Get in here!
Jesus: Yo, God, what's crackin?
God: I need you help. We have a big problem.
Jesus: What is it? Floods? Drought? Violence?
God: No no. It's....well...it's Welsh. I can't get him back to the church no matter what I try. I've given him health, excessive good looks and charm, a modicum of talent. I mean, who's dick do I have to suck to get some thanks??
Jesus: Well, I don't want to get all crazy here, but have you thought of using......granola?
God: I do believe you may be on to something.

Anywho, thanks for the granola bar God, even though I still don't believe you exist. Next time try a Snickers bar. I mean, that would rule.

(P.S. to my 9 year old homey Andrew. If you're reading this, well, you shouldn't be. Go play that guitar and disregard what you've seen here.)