If God exists, and we are His children, then it is like the world is the property, we are the tenants and God is the deadbeat Landlord.
None of the roommates have seen Him (though there are a few unconfirmed reports made from nights of extreme intoxication, and most of these stories contradict each other).
When something breaks down we ask Him to repair it, but He never gets back to us. So after all the blaming and swearing and cursing the Landlord's name, we always end up having to fix whatever's wrong ourselves.
If we do get to meet the Landlord, it is before we move in and after we move out.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
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I may have to steal this.
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