more on Faith and Gratitude

Okay, it's fucking tomorrow and that half a fucking egg salad sandwich doesn't look to fucking good to me right about now. Mother Fuckers! I work my fucking ass-fucker off every slime ass fucking day and I am soooooooooooo looking forward to my two weeks of noodles and canned spagetti sauce and the rest of my fucking cinammon Life cereal (Mikey likes it! Yea-up the butt!).
So, what the hell happened to my faith and gratitude? Let's just say it got gobbled up by my visions of a Big Fucking Mac sandwich, fries and a "cuul" drink. Assholes! The stinky tards I work with have more fucking money than I do. The idiot boy with the $five dollar bill stuck in his crankhole, who has no idea that's its there much less what to do with it. Maybe I should just stuff my fives down his pooped pants and grab that 1/4 of a double sawbuck. Shove him down while doing it, make it look like an accident, then race across the street to the In-And-Out-Urge and shove vast quantities of Mad Meat down my gull hole. Just a fucking binge-o-rama as my students sad expense. Shit, he's gonna be downin every kind of fast fuckfood and sugar shuck that his ol' nasty mumsies and dadsies can shell out. While me, heh heh, me....Well, let's just say I'm lookin at my cats a whole lot different right now. There! There's your fucking gratitutde DUDE!
Hell, my weekend looks just GREAT. So, what the hell am I gonna do? Trust God? Trust all the purveyors of God who tell me that they don't have the answers just gotta give god a phone call again. Okay. You win. Hey GOD. Big Guy. Listen, this is little Ol' Tony and I'm fucking hungry right now. "So why don't you eat", uh yeah I know but I got this egg-salad sandwich and uh it..." "Stop complaining. What did they eat at Auschwitz? You think an egg-salad sandwich might have looked okay to them Anton? And spagetti and sauce!? Are you out of your cotton fuckin mind, pal? A feast for the feasty. Pop Tarts you say, or a pop-tart. You grateless, ungrately piece of human filth. You greedy pork filled heeb. You call yourself a jew and talk this shit!? On the SABBATH no less! WHYIOUGHTA!"
I know God. Yes, I know. I am sludge. I'm the worst kind of man. Taking little autistic boys cash. But, like they say at Rally's "Hey, you gotta eat".
GET ME SOME K-RATIONS NOW GOD-O-GODEEYO. I'm fucking hungry down here.
And while your at it, give me some faith with those fries.