Throughout the entire universe, before anything

Throughout the entire universe, before anything even existed, there has been one question. This question: "How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck can chuck wood?"

The question reverberated through the primordial universe until it collided with the Goddess Rhea's labia.

Through the questionable encounter, doubt was conceived. Doubt begat frustration, and frustration gave birth to anger which bore destruction. The universe winked out again, but

left behind a pregnant silence full of bitter and malicious brooding, to which the absent and traitless void gave no notice. But when the universe came back, it came back with a

very optimistic point of view. Sure it might not be the most pretty universe or the smartest universe or even the universe with the Kesel Run, but it was a universe just the same.

It was just me and that universe in that void of nothing. I'd never believed in God, but now I knew that there was something, some consciousness controlling. The universe thought.

And thought. But finally the Universe said it couldn't think of anyone else there besides me, and asked me if I was, perhaps, God. This hadn't occurred to me before. Had I not

realised that tattooed upon my own knuckles were the initials G O D. With this realisation, I had had enough with the universe, and after eating it, I decided to

Have a jigger of sangria each night until the 4 liter jug was gone. I will buy more when it 's half full. The master of the universe would understand why I chose to drink jiggers.