As I sit here and try to find fuel to deliver to my customers, which is a challenge right now, and fend off reporters looking for quotes and interviews on the recurring gas crisis (didn’t we do this with Katrina and Rita recently?) I realize that it is time for Divine Intervention; and a weekend at the Ritz is not Devine enough
If I remember, Sonny (I think) was praying to God (which I gather he always does) and looking for a free handout of rain (which God is not too good at delivering). We got a little rain, which God (or maybe it was Sonny) claimed credit for, and a special relationship with the other, but in the real scheme of things, it was a minute amount of rain and I think they have a casual acquaintance at best.
Furthermore, I think I got in trouble with the religious groups for making fun of God (or maybe it was Sonny) and they are all now praying for me (or they were).
It seems to me that we are in this mess because, once again, the Big Guy (God, I think) who has a horrible track record for storms and floods and drought when we really don’t need them (or did Sonny cause Hurricanes Gustav and Ike?) has once again blown it (both figuratively and literally) and now we need to dig our way out (again, both figuratively and literally).
Well I might have the ultimate solution to the mess. Somewhat Devine intervention, with no reservations required.
It is obvious that he has some sort of relationship with the Big Guy (God with Sonny…I think), of that there can be no doubt.
Now, it needs to be noted that I did advise Him last week (Sonny, I think) about the impending “doom and gloom” shortage (well, it might have been God, I take both of their names in vain far too often) but as they both ignore me, it appears that I am not that close to either.
Actually, come to think of it, I have never met Him (neither God nor Sonny), so I can understand why I have yet to receive my invite to Heaven (or is it the Governor’s Mansion?), although I did deliver gas there a couple of times, the Manse that is, not the Pearly Gates. Strange, now that I think about it, all of the Angels wore white uniforms with blue stripes, and not a wing in sight.