Are You There, God? It's Me, Jo.

Now while I'm a big believer in God, and I feel His work must be perfect and holy and righteous and all that nonsense, I can't help but sometimes think, "You know what, Pal? I could have planned this shit a hell of a lot better than You. No offense, Jesus."

Let's think this through for a second.

SEX. 

For example. First and foremost, the nasty. As I've heard it so crudely explained, who runs a sewage pipe through a recreational area? Sorry, but who wants to get all playful and lovely dovey and disover a BUTTHOLE in the way? Nothxyouvmuch. Butts are off limits. If it were up to me, I'd plan the fun and naughty bits as far away from the excretory system as I could. Maybe we'd poop out our toes or pee out our elbows. I don't know. But anything is better than a pee hole one centimeter away from the female pleasure bits, or pissing directly out one's supposed-to-be-sexy manhood. And butts? Don't even get me started. Why are they RIGHT THERE? Why right there? Why is the taint (a.k.a. the watch-your-step zone) only one inch big? So wretchedly unsexy. I want nothing to do with this butt of yours kind sir. I could have designed it better, Jesus.

BOOBS. 

Second, for all your nursing mothers out there, don't your beautiful and glorious and full and perky breasts lose some of their magic when they are scabbed over, bleeding, leaking, aching like the bejeezus, and you cringe if your husband gets withing six American inches of them or if he accidentally brushes by them or you god forbid, have to shower and the water pelts down upon your glorious aching bosoms? Oh I remember the agony like it was yesterday. The last thing you want is sexytime when he's all over those puppies. Not only because you'll soak and spray the bed with your milky milky goodness, but because there is a switch that has been flipped in your head that says, "These are for baby. They are no long for sexytime, at least for 9-1/2 months or more." And if you are anything like me, "I don't want your slobbery lips and/or beard all over my pristine baby feeders. Who know where those lips have been? Sorry honey, just wait a year and we'll be back to normal and you can smother my glorious creamy white mounds of love of with smooches. No big, right?" I could have designed it better, Jesus.

BIRTH. 

Business in the front, party in the back.                

Speaking of bringing forth young, I would have liked things to go the way for humans that they do for kangaroos, for example. A kangaroo gives birth to a very tiny, very immature joey, 2 cm long and weighing less than a gram. I could get used to that. This Joey gave birth to a seven-pound, ten-ounce Noey.  Screw this linebacker, I want a gram-size baby. The baby roo wriggles out of the mother's vajayjay, with the mother's lady bits totally intact, no harm done, no tears, no stitches, no repair, and weasels its way to a pouch where it spends 7-1/2 months attached to a teat. I could deal with that. Rather than a ravaged, savaged, torn-to hell perineum and 19-1/2 hours of hard labor with pitocin and all that shit, followed by a broken tailbone, a second-degree tear, and urinary incontinence that lasted for like 18 months. Bygones.

I mean, joeys are fucking hideous to behold, unless you're its roo mama in which case your fetal joey is the most glorious thing you've ever laid eyes on, but still, I'd rather squirt out a 2-centimeter baby than a 21-inch fucker. I could have designed it better, Jesus.

EXCRETIONS.

Also, as long as we're talking about what we would have changed about the childbirth process if we were Jehovah, I would have made the digestive systen 100% efficient. Like, you take food in, you use it all, there is no need for excretory bidness. Why can't we use every bit of the food we take in with complete efficiency? What's with the having to shit like once or twice a day? Totally unacceptable, Savior Lord God in heaven, Totally unacceptable.

I think You know best about most things, but poop, genitals, birth, and the like, You should have consulted me on. I'm just saying. You should have consulted me.

So dear Jesus, if you're listening, just know that I could have done better than You with re to all things excretory, reproductive, and sexual.

Love, 
Evermore,
Yours, 
In faithful service,
Jo