Ag pleaze dêddy…
Warning. LPS. Reader discretion is advised.
Angus “I-haven’t-bin-to-baaibil-college-I’ve-bin-to-agricultural-college-but-i-haven’t-bin-to-baaibil-college” Buchan will this Friday pray to God for rain in the Eastern Cape.
“Ag pleaze dêddy, wouldn’t you make it rain man, 5, 6, 7 mils, 8, 9, 10…”
I checked out the weather forecast for the region and rain is expected for today, Thursday, Sunday and Tuesday. Not much, mind, but darem, ek sê. So this might be an expedient time to do some praying for rain.
But crazy as praying for rain might be, it does afford us a clarion insight into the character of “God”. Let me elucidate…
Suppose your child is hungry. You know this because you haven’t supplied a meal for two days and she’s lethargic and queasy. You do… fuck all. So she’s hungry.
Eventually, she asks you for food. You do fuck all.
Then she organises her school mates to come serenade you. They tell you that you are just the man – you’re wise beyond comprehension; your compassion and love for your child is without a velleity of doubt and your bum makes teenage girls horny.
You supply a meal. Your child feasts. And then she gets her mates together again and they are speechless at your grace and goodness.
God is a fucking cunt. The doos should be drawn and quartered.
I mean, does this poephol not know it’s dry in Uitenhage? He should fucking get Dstv.