Dear God #1.

(I shall be 40 on the 23rd of this month.  On the same night Rufus Wainwright is playing in Bristol.  I found out today that the tickets are sold out.  Which inspired this post….)

Dear God,

I don’t know who You are.  I don’t know what You want.  If You are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money.  But what I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long career.  Skills that make me a nightmare for people like You.  If You get me tickets for the Rufus gig in Bristol on the 23rd, that’ll be the end of it.  I will not look for You, I will not pursue You.  But if You don’t, I will look for You, I will find You, and I will fucking kill You.

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