Dear God…

Dear God,

If at all possible I need your assistance with a few things. As you probably know I rarely go to Church but I do have the name of your presence on Earth (Robbie Fowler) tattooed on my left shoulder. Hopefully this will be enough for you to place me in the ‘believer’ pile and grant me my requests.

Firstly, I’d really appreciate it if you could fire a lightening bolt at all those restaurants still placing ‘traditional’ sauce bottles on their tables. There is a reason why plastic bottles that can be squeezed were invented. No paying customer should ever have to waste valuable eating time shaking a glass bottle and banging its rear end in the hope that a tiny droplet of sauce will eventually land somewhere close to their french fries.

Once you’re done with teaching these sauce fiends a lesson could you next rid the world of all wars. You’ve been asked about this before, I’m sure you remember our previous exchange on the topic:

Me: War, huh yeah, what is it good for?

You: Absolutely nothing.

Me: Say it again.

You: Absolutely nothing.

Despite this clear agreement I only have to glance out of my living room window to see that war still rages between my neighbour and planet Jupiter. They fell out over the girl from Mars and they’ve been fighting ever since. I did once try playing the pipes of peace in my neighbours garden but he threatened me with a blunder buster gun so I withdrew gracefully.

My next request is a little sensitive so please keep it to yourself. I especially implore you not to tell that blabbermouth son of yours, Jesus, as he’ll not be able to stop himself delivering a sermon from some mountain top or other on the topic. Please can you fix my mind. It’s become a bit mixed up and I don’t know how to organise my thoughts anymore. You’ll probably need to hire a skip to throw out all the thoughts that shouldn’t be there. In particular my recent pondering that I might quite like to take up jogging needs removing pronto before I find myself investing in some plimsolls.

Probably not a priority but, at some point, I’d like you to organise the return of the Mack and for John Craven to make a comeback as anchor of Newsround.

It’s very important that you ensure love really will find a way. I think some new road signs and a refreshed google maps will help but I also think you need to equip love with some sensible shoes, a packed lunch and a cagoule for what seems to be something of an arduous journey.

Please can you stop shrinking chocolate bars. They’re clearly smaller now than they were back in the day. Any more shrinkage and I’ll start questioning your love for all men/women.

My penultimate request is that you set a plague of locusts on any person using the phrases ‘second to last’ or ‘last but one’. I’m too busy watching television and lying on the sofa to listen to someone using three words when one will suffice.

Finally, could you check up on my Dad, Auntie Val, Uncle Eric and Cousin Christopher. Tell them I love them and that I think of them everyday. Today is Sunday and I’m remembering roast dinners in East Stanley, County Durham. The whole family sat round the table eating, talking and laughing. Those were the days.

Kind regards


6 thoughts on “Dear God…

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