And God laughed.

I say sorry again and again, but it's a word now rendered meaningless to my family due to the accompanying lack of results.

And you can't be "good" at a diet, because that's called an eating disorder... and he's a monkey you can't get off your back.

And we shoot bb's at the moon to spite God and God laughs.

God laughed when I got mono from kissing that night I sneaked out and wasn't supposed to.
He laughed when all of Utah county pretended to be Buddhist for a day just to attend a chalk festival. And on his list of regrets is a missed opportunity to create a chalk festival to celebrate Christ's birth.
God laughs at karma.
When you punched the wall and broke your hand.
When that chick shaved her head. He got the joke.
God laughed when you bought pet mice for $3 apiece when you could catch them in the field across the street for free.

And he cried when my sister asked me to rate my love for her on a scale from one to five, and I said two. Even though it was a joke. It was a terrible joke.

God cried when he watched "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas," but he ridicules "The Titanic."

He turned his back from the Holocaust. Notice I said "from" instead of "on." He did not turn his back on their suffering. He did not turn away because he is an apathetic God. But because he had to stop himself from ending the world right then and there.

He cries when the teenage moms abandon their babies at the park, wrapped in swaddling clothes. Because no matter how many babes he sees, they always remind him of one nearly two thousand years ago with all their potential.

He cried when the girl who hadn't been raped lied about being raped and when the girl who had lied and said she hadn't.

The room had a sink.
The sink was for washing.
The sink was white.

He spends half his time at the sink washing the ugly off of his hands.